


The Failed Protagonist

by chaiya



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi POV, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Study, Fate & Destiny, Future Fic, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reunions, Social Links, akechi doing the whole being a protag thing, akira is a hot lawyer sorry i don't make the rules, the most sublte p2 reference ever, velvet room
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-11-01 14:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10923843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaiya/pseuds/chaiya
Summary: [SPOILERS IN DESCRIPTION]"I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier...we could have been great rivals or perhaps even friends."That moment has haunted Goro Akechi for the last six years of his adult life. After living in hiding since the fall of Masayoshi Shido six years prior, Akechi is ready to try and get back on his feet in Tokyo. He wants to make things right, if not for everyone he's hurt, than at least for himself. He is ready for his regret to transform into hope, but he can't do it alone, try as he might.---A story about our antagonist, Goro Akechi, on his own journey through self-discovery, healing, and relationships. Our hero must break the chains of fate and reclaim his heart. This is first and foremost a character study of Akechi, but his interactions with Akira Kurusu feature heavily.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major plot spoilers Sept-Endgame.
> 
> ***This fic may not be finished for a while because I'm currently developing a P5 dating sim! Please check out @p5fangame on twitter or tumblr if you wanna date yusuke/ryuji/goro!!

For the second time in his short, fucked up life, Goro Akechi finds himself living alone in a small Tokyo apartment. It had been nearly six years since he had set foot in the city, and frankly, he had long believed that he would never be back. But fate had other ideas while 24-year-old Goro was busy making plans.

For the last six years, he had sentenced himself to exile, hiding himself away in a remote mountain town in Akita that was known for its hot springs and fresh air--and not much else. He had lodged at a local inn and studied criminology and sociology at an unimpressive college that most people had never heard of. While he had truly loved the detective work he’d done in high school, he knew that he had to learn to hone real skills and knowledge before he could face his colleagues as equals again. He also refused to rely on his wildcard persona abilities and had all but blacked out his time in the Metaverse out of overwhelming shame and guilt. Despite the haunting memories, this quiet lifestyle hadn't been a bad life, though it was far less stimulating than the young man could bear much longer. After nearly a year of careful deliberation, precise calculations, and obsessive ‘what if’ thinking, he knew it was time to move on. To forge his own path.

He stands at the threshold of his bachelor suite with his final bag brought up from the taxi below. It had been a simple move considering how few possessions Goro had to his name. He scans his new apartment, taking in the details despite the fatigue in his body imploring him to fall face flat on the futon he could see through the open door to his new bedroom. The walls are freshly painted a plain off-white. Sensible, he thinks, nodding to himself. The floors were a cheap fake wood flooring, though they looked clean enough. Throughout the apartment there is a paltry scattering of cheap, unassuming furniture. Goro begins to walk around, taking inventory. He walks past the small tan sofa, running his fingers along the scratchy fabric as he passes. He notes the small coffee table and half-sized bookshelf as he rounds the sofa and enters kitchen, the only indication of difference between the two areas in the floor plan being the abrupt switch from wood to linoleum tile. The tiles are slippery under his socks, so he glides over childishly to the kitchen sink. The countertops are no less cheap and boring than the flooring, with corners of the counter top finish beginning to peel. That would definitely irk him. In a large cupboard, Goro finds a rice cooker and an electric kettle, which he leaves be as he shuts the cabinets once more. The old, white fridge is empty, but turned on, and at the end of the kitchen there is a small washer and wastebasket. He sighs, emotionless, as he continues to mentally map his new living space. Turning out of the kitchen, he passes the small bathroom in the short hallway and enters his bedroom, which is a six tatami floor room. It contains the futon he'd seen from the front door, as well as a small set of wooden drawers and an open closet with sliding doors. A healthy amount of springtime sunshine poured in the bedroom window, making the room far brighter than the main room. A south facing window, he notes with mild contentment. Perhaps he could put an aloe plant there, maybe even a succulent.

He returns to the front entrance where his two bags and a single cardboard box await him. A self-identified minimalist, Goro refused the admit the fleeting sadness he felt after taking only 20 minutes to fully unpack the contents of his life. Clothes put away, fresh towels in the bathroom, five books on the shelf, a comforter on the futon, and a single lock pick made by a teammate six years ago set atop the dresser. This apartment with no personality is his home now. This is is life.

With no groceries to his name, Goro considers ordering takeout after doing a quick search on his phone for small restaurants in his neighborhood. He notices the small cafe on the map, just across the street from his apartment complex and located near a convenience store. The cafe looks like nothing special from the outside, judging from the street view images on the map. A pained smile stretches across his face as memories of LeBlanc flash through his mind’s eye. More memories he'd rather just forget. He locks his phone screen with his thumb and pockets it. Not in the mood for takeout after all, Goro grabs his wallet and key and decides to wander to the convenience store and buy himself a house warming meal of boxed sushi and red bean steamed buns with a liter of green tea. Gone were the days of meticulously prepping meals and following a strict and nutritious diet for his television appearances. Truth be told, it had been exhausting to manage his diet back then without the help of an adult. Oh how he had envied his peers with their families. LeBlanc still on the mind, Goro wonders if that's why he had been so comforted at the small cafe--everything was made with care and he felt so at home during his summer days there, despite the tension he had felt whenever _he_ had come around. It feels as though an icy fist clutches around his heart at the thought of the teenager he had tried to kill years ago. He hadn't thought of Akira Kurusu in ages, except during nightmares, and the memories of the boy made him feel nauseous and oh so alone.

Goro anxiously returns to his apartment and drops the plastic bag of food onto the coffee table. He slumps into the sofa and let's out a deep breath. He stares at nothing at all for a full half hour, mind in a slow spiral from bad to worse. Was he really ready to be back in Tokyo? Had he miscalculated? He comes to, now realizing he's sitting in a near dark apartment thanks to the setting sun. Pulling himself begrudgingly from the couch, he walks five feet to the lamp and pulls the short chain, filling the apartment with the perfect amount of warm light. He walks back to the couch and sits down, tense and on the edge of his seat, as if filled with anticipation. He bites his lip and taps his foot, trying to fill the still silence of his apartment with more than just his breath and his vulnerability. Anxious, Goro resolves to stream an anime on his laptop and eats his meal on the couch only half paying attention to the Featherman episode he had seen thrice before. 

The night grows old and Goro’s eyes begin to strain from the light of his laptop screen. He closes the lid without shutting down his computer and shuffles over to his bedroom. Though today had not been physically demanding for Goro, he felt himself alarmingly drained of energy and hadn't quite shaken the feeling of heartache since unpacking. He peels off his socks and carefully pulls of his pants, folding them neatly and placing them on the floor beside his dresser. With no hamper--he made a mental note to purchase one tomorrow--he discards his socks in the corner of the room and retires to his futon in his tshirt and briefs.

\---  
_Loki had him pinned to the ground with a strength so overpowering that it was useless to struggle. “You failed. You're worthless to your father, you're useless to your fans, you're nothing to the teammates you betrayed, and you are a disappointment to me,” spits Loki in a venomous, demonic voice. “How dare you continue to live. You are scum. You must die,” it continues, a magical force extending from Loki’s glowing form and tightening around Crow’s throat. He sputters, panicking, and his eyes dart around to search in hopeless terror for some assistance. He sees a figure emerge from the shadows and come up to stand just behind Loki. It's Joker, and he's looking down at Crow with an unreadable expression. “Don't kill him, Loki,” he says with cold authority. The magical grip on his neck loosens, but he is still pinned helplessly to the ground. “I'll kill him instead,” Joker says with a sickeningly evil grin that does not suit the soft facial features below his mask. He raises his knife and crouches beside him, slowly bringing the knife to his throat and--_

\---  
Goro skips breakfast that morning, opting instead for a cold shower to clean is body which had gotten drenched in sweat overnight. His eyes ache. He feels as though he hadn't slept at all.

He barely has the willpower not to spend the entire day in bed, but he knows he must go on with his life. He knew moving back to Tokyo would be hard, but this is what he prepared for, and he couldn't just shut down now. Goro takes his time getting dressed, slowly pulling on yesterday's black pants and selecting a fresh white tshirt and warm brown, cable knit cardigan. He clips his black leather watch to his left wrist and walks into the main room to retrieve his belongings. He puts his phone, wallet, and key into his brown leather shoulder bag, and slips his black socked feet into his grey suede shoes. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and takes a deep breath as he opens his door and steps out into the world.

Conveniently, Goro lives near a subway station, though he already misses the road bike he'd had access to in Akita. Maybe he'd buy a new one if he managed to secure a job, he muses. At the station, he buys himself a transit pass from the ticketing machine, grateful he still remembered how to navigate the complicated subway system after all these years. Today he would be headed to Shibuya to do some homegoods shopping, and he felt a sickening mix of excitement and apprehension at the thought that he'd be returning to the district he'd spent so much time in not so long ago. The train arrives promptly, and as its after morning rush hour, Goro has no problem finding an empty seat. He sits and opens the notepad on his phone, beginning to jot down a list of household items and groceries he'd need to pick up for the day. By the time he has gone three stations, Goro had written ‘rice, hamper, soap, toilet paper, and salmon’. As the doors to the current station slide open, Goro looks up in thought, considering what else to add to the list. More passengers shuffle aboard the car, and Goro Akechi feels his entire body begin to incinerate as he catches glances with a now adult Akira Kurusu. Kurusu looks genuinely shocked--not a look that Goro had witnessed very often, and when he had, it was not under any well-intentioned circumstance. Kurusu doesn't move as passengers flood in around him, and his mouth is shamelessly agape as he maintains eye contact with Goro from across the car. Filled with a panic so intense, Goro can hardly breathe and his hands and face start to tingle, losing feeling slowly but surely. He picks up his bag and shoves through the standing passengers, trying to get as much distance from himself and Kurusu as possible. Before he knows it, the train has pulled into the next station, which is gratefully Shibuya station. Goro rushes off the train without looking back and speed walks out of the terminal and into the nearest underground washroom. He slams shut the bathroom stall door and sits on the toilet, putting his head between his knees, fully hyperventilating now. His mind is racing much too quickly for him to collect his thoughts, and he starts counting breaths, in and out, just like his middle school therapist had taught him over a decade ago. Slowly, Goro regains control over his body and begins to feel more present. He looks down at his hands, studying the details of his nail beds and calluses and knuckles so that he feels a little more like he occupies a body. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Okay. He is okay. Goro is okay. He stands weakly and leaves the stall, keeping his head hung low and avoiding eye contact with the strangers in the bathroom has he forges on to run his errands.

\---  
The errands are completed on autopilot, and before he knows it, Goro is back in his apartment with four plastic shopping bags and a fold up hamper. He barely remembers purchasing any of it, only remembering the dread and helplessness he'd felt on the train. Truth be told, he would have never guessed he would run into any ex-Phantom Thieves so soon, let alone at all, and he was not at all prepared. He had heard nothing of the Thieves as a collective nor on an individual level since Shido’s trial. Except of course for the occasional photo spread of Takamaki in a magazine or the one brief mention of Kitagawa’s success in the art world a few years ago in the arts and entertainment section of a national newspaper that Goro had read on the train to Hokkaido one autumn. As for Kurusu in particular, Goro had never heard of nor from him again. He thought it was for the best, honestly. Every time he thought about the lies and betrayal and pain he had put him through, Goro could barely stand to be alive. But he had to stay alive, and so he blocked those thoughts out as much as humanly possible. That was his punishment and his fate. And if he'd live, he could not stay stagnant. He had to change and make things just a little more right in the world, even if those teens he'd cast away six years ago never saw it, or worse, if they did see it and hated him for it.

Goro sits in his dark thoughts and growing determination. It didn't matter if he was unprepared and terrified. He had to go on. Realizing he had been squeezing his hands into fists from his spot on the couch, Goro releases his grip and watches his knuckles turn from white to pink and flexes his fingers. With a heavy sigh, he leans forward and grabs his laptop from the table and places it on his lap, slumping back into the couch lazily. He had to stick to his plan if he were to beat this move and hit the ground running in his new life. He opens a folder containing his painstakingly written resume, some generic ‘company name here’ cover letter templates he had drafted, and a document of potential job leads he had listed for reference. His eyes hover over one name in particular and he swallows, noticing for the first time how dry his mouth had become through all the panic and anxiety of the day. He highlights and un-highlights the name over and over again. Sae Niijima, defense attorney. Goro absentmindedly runs his tongue over his teeth, deep in thought. Could he really be so bold as to request a professional meeting with his former colleague? Surely she had lost all respect for him after mitigating his efforts to murder the leader of the Phantom Thieves in a locked room of the police station. But he had changed. Maybe she had changed too--she must have, she was now a lawyer after all. He nearly works up the courage to email her, but decides after a brief mental debate that it may be best to request her time in person. He searches for her law office online to find the address and the name of her secretary. He doesn't bother to look at the other staff at the law firm, knowing he would likely never secure a job there anyway. He shuts down his laptop and puts it back on the table. Tomorrow would be the day he goes to see Sae Niijima. He had it decided and there was no going back. Might as well see everyone he's ever tried to destroy in the first week, he thinks bitterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe i drafted this last week at my literal job and then wrote the first half of this fic on a plane instead of finishing my masters thesis. (thumbs up emoji)


	2. Chapter 2

_He is crumpled on a hard steel floor, body in excruciating pain. He comes to hearing banging on a metal wall just beside him. “Akechi! Yo!” he hears a voice call out, desperate and angry. It sounds like Skull. Crow raises his head from the steel floor and blinks away the pain in his head, barely conscious and hardly able to focus his eyes. He gathers that he’s still in the engine room. “I'm not getting a reading…” he hears Oracle say, much more quiet and sad than Skull. He hears a fist hit the steel wall and then a heartbroken, “come on Joker, let's go…” before he passes out again._

More skipped breakfast, another cold shower. Goro begins to mentally prepare himself for the day. He's up early and throws on a pair of boxers and a clean undershirt and gets on the floor beside his futon. He stretches his legs out in front of him and leans forward, curving his spine and reaching his slim, toned arms towards his bare feet, which he grips with strong fingers. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, release. He spreads his legs apart and reaches forward again, hands crawling his torso forward along the floor. Deep breath in, countdown, release, deep breath out. He continues this routine for ten minutes, feeling a little more at home in his body after the second night in a row of horrifying dreams and flashbacks. Akechi rolls his head in a circle about his shoulders, releasing some tension from his neck and jaw. He had never stopped getting tension headaches, even after he retreated from detective work and the spotlight and the plots of revenge.

He rolls onto his side, sprawled on the floor, and reaches out to open the draw of his dresser, not bothering to crouch beside it like a normal person. He pulls out a simple white button up and rolls back over on the floor so he can sit up properly. He sits cross legged as he buttons the shirt before he gets to his feet, walking across the room to retrieve his black pants, and carefully easing his legs through each hole. He grabs a burgundy cardigan with silver buttons and slips his arms through the sleeves before heading to the main room for his bag and shoes. Before leaving, he places a folder with his printed resumes into his bag and throws in his phone as well as an old novel for good measure. Satisfied that he looks and feels nice enough to face Niijima, he locks his apartment door behind him and makes his way once again toward the subway.

Goro doesn't run into anyone he knows on the train this morning, which is a relief. He may have his brave face on today--the charming detective prince facade that had worked for him so well his whole life--but he was glad that he had the commute to mentally prepare for all the possibilities of his meeting with Niijima. Maybe she wouldn't be in at all, he half hoped. Regardless, he knew he had to get it over with. Tension and regret comprise Goro’s emotional state during the subway ride, but he’s used to it, especially the pain of regret. Regret haunts him like an eerie melody, a continuous backtrack to his everyday life. If only he hadn’t been distorted by a thirst for revenge. If only he had let his need for acceptance lead him to friendship instead of deceit and murder. If only he had met Kurusu a few years sooner...he shakes his head and takes a deep breath in hopes to subdue his rising nausea. He decides to pretend it’s just motion sickness from the train, and think himself lucky when he arrives at his stop and navigates his way through the unfamiliar station, temporarily distracted from his despair. He emerges above ground, thankful for the fresh air and sunshine. It’s warmer than he had anticipated for spring, so he rolls up the sleeves to his cardigan. It crosses his mind that he used to wear gloves year round. Had he thought it was cool? Perhaps mysterious? He smiles to himself, laughing internally at the teenager he had been.

After just a few short blocks of walking, Goro enters the pristine, marbled lobby of an office building. Finding Niijima’s law office was simple enough. It was on the sixth floor of a downtown high rise not far from the Tokyo Sky Tree. He nervously shares the elevator with two other office workers who mercifully do not engage him in small talk. The doors to the sixth floor open and he steps out, alone. He looks around to orient himself. The office decor is much more humble than the entrance lobby had been. The floor has a generic grey carpet, and the walls are plain white in some sections, and full floor-to-ceiling glass in other parts. Through one glass wall he can see a secretary working at her desk, and in the foreground, frosted glass spells out ‘OFFICE OF SAE NIIJIMA, DEFENSE ATTORNEY’. Goro takes one last slow, deep inhale of breath as he tightens the grip on his bag and walks confidently through the door. As he enters, the secretary looks up from her computer and greets him with a courteous smile.

“Hello there, do you have an appointment with Niijima today?” she asks sweetly.

“I don’t,” he admits, flashing his charming smile. “I’m an old colleague of hers. I was hoping to drop by and see her. It has been a number of years after all.”

“Well…” the secretary begins uneasily, “Niijima is quite busy. Could I have your name? I’ll check in on her and see if she has a moment to spare. She’s in a briefing with her legal assistant at the present moment,” she explains. 

“Tell her it’s Akechi. Goro Akechi,” he says with a bright fake smile.

The secretary stands and walks across the small room to a closed wooden door, which is unmarked. She cracks the door open and sticks her head inside, speaking softly, so that Goro is left unable to see or hear the exchange. Her discreteness is overblown by a loud “ _What?!_ ”, followed by the secretary’s alarmed and frantic apologies. She jumps back from the door, which is flung open, revealing a 30-year-old Sae Niijima. She now sports a stylish bob and wears high-waisted black dress pants, a lilac blouse with matching heels, and a furious facial expression. 

“It’s you,” she says, accusingly from the doorway.

Admittedly, Goro is completely terrified, and he hopes his fear doesn’t show through the polite smile he flashes towards his former colleague. “It’s me,” he manages to confirm, quickly falling into his charming ways.

“My office. Now,” she demands with authority. Goro obliges and walks the short distance to her door, bowing his head politely as he crosses the threshold. The door slams behind him and that’s when Goro realizes he may have made a grave mistake. Niijima’s aforementioned legal assistant, Akira Kurusu, stands by the desk wearing the same look of shock he had yesterday on the train during their chance encounter. No one speaks for a full 10 seconds. Niijima continues to look enraged, and Kurusu looks both astonished and pained. Akechi continues to smile his fake smile out of sheer anxiety. His eyes don’t leave Kurusu, finally allowing himself to take the man in. He’s wearing fitted navy blue dress pants and matching argyle socks. He has a form fitting light blue dress shirt with the navy tie hanging loosely from the unbuttoned collar. The outfit is pulled together with a dark brown leather belt and matching pair of dress shoes. Kurusu still wears glasses, though these are more of a thin, silver framed pair, different than what Goro had remembered from years prior. He looks _good_ , and that terrifies Goro even more. It terrifies him to believe that everyone has been off living happy and healthy lives, only for Goro to come back and fuck up their lives some more. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in this legal office with Niijima and Kurusu, but his escape route is blocked. He suddenly feels the weight of his presence and wishes he would just disappear, like a lost blip on the radar, as he had done six years ago. Kurusu is the first to break the silence.

“Would you like to sit?” he asks gently, gesturing to the two chairs on the outside of Niijima’s large wooden desk. His face is an emotionless stonewall, hinting at nothing but concern.

Goro is surprised to find himself filled with anger at the polite offer. How could Kurusu stand to be so nice to him after all he’d done? After all these years with no closure and no apology? Kurusu should be screaming at him, shooting him daggers, ordering him to leave and never come back. He suppresses his rage and nods, pulling the chair out just a bit and moving to take a seat. Kurusu and Niijima do the same. The tension is less extreme with the three of them now seated, but it is still palpable. Kurusu is looking over at him, studying his face, with a look of increasing concern. Niijima glares at him with intensity from across the desk, her elbows on the desk and her hands clasped in front of her face, blocking her mouth from view. Above her hands is an expression distrust and anger.

“Why the hell are you in my office?” she asks, bluntly.

“Easy, Sae--” Kurusu cuts in, his voice soft.

“It’s alright, Kurusu,” Goro replies nervously, addressing the young man for the first time since their promise made behind steel walls.

Kurusu nods in silent reply, allowing Goro to respond to Niijima’s question, likely eager to hear the answer as well.

Goro takes a deep breath and stands, much to the confusion of the two lawyers. He bows at a perfect 90 degree angle, hands at his side, and head held down in shame. “I’d like to deeply and sincerely apologize for that which I’ve done, and all that I put you through. I know that I have caused irreparable damage and lasting trauma for you and all whom I touched in my young life. What I did was unforgivable, and I am grateful that you’d even share the same room as me today,” he apologizes wholeheartedly, maintaining the bow for a few seconds longer. He had rehearsed this.

After seconds of stunned silence, he straightens his posture and returns to his seat, bowing his head again as he does so. Niijima looks less bloodthirsty, and Kurusu remains infuriatingly calm and concerned. No one speaks, so Goro takes this as his cue to continue speaking on his sudden reappearance into their lives.

“I’ve come here today for innumerable reasons,” he begins. “May I just say that I had not expected to see you here, Kurusu, and for that I am sorry. I would have liked to meet you on less...shocking terms.” Kurusu nods stoically, and Niijima maintains her intense gaze. He turns to address the attorney now. “Niijima, my aim today is twofold. Firstly, I felt that you deserved to finally know of my whereabouts. You deserve to know that I am in fact alive, and once again, living in Tokyo. Following the election six years ago, I chose to disappear out of shame. I was horrified at what I had done to not only the Phantom Thieves, but to everyone impacted by the rampage incidents and mental breakdowns. I was a naive and distraught child, and while that does explain my behavior, it does not excuse it,” he says, full of genuine remorse. Niijima is unblinking, unwavering. Goro is intimidated by her stare, but continues on.

“I spent the last six years of my life living in Akita. I interacted with few people, though in my time alone, I attended a college to study criminology and sociology,” he pauses, trying to gauge the vibe of the room. Kurusu and Niijima betray no emotion nor thought, and so, he continues. 

“Back then, I truly did love detective work, though my methods were despicable and immoral. I chose to study criminology in order to develop real, respectable skills. I hope to forge my own career now, as a young adult, in a more pure and just manner than I had as an outcast celebrity detective prince...This brings me to my final point. I have moved back to Tokyo this week, with the intention of rebuilding my life and becoming the master of my own fate. I will be applying to jobs in the legal field, and I thought you should hear from me directly before seeing my name appear on any legal documents or court proceedings,” he concludes.

Niijima doesn’t reply, but of course, Kurusu does. “Thank you for telling us,” he says evenly, somehow still maintaining composure. Goro stiffly nods in acknowledgement, trying to ignore the racing thoughts that Kurusu’s unexpected presence brings to the forefront of his mind.

Niijima sighs and leans back into her large swivel chair. “Like Akira, I appreciate that you had the decency to inform me of your return to Tokyo in person, rather than leaving it to chance,” she says coldly, analyzing the young man from across the desk. “I will likely never forgive you for what you’ve done, and what you’ve tried to do, but I cannot bar you from trying to take a second chance in life. If I’ve learned anything from my time as a prosecutor, defense attorney, and ally to the late Phantom Thieves, it’s that we all deserve second chances.”

Kurusu smiles at Niijima when she finishes this remark, and there are no words for how his understanding and approving smile makes Goro’s blood boil with guilt, shame, fear, and hatred. He inhales sharply and responds to Niijima’s comment with nothing but a polite smile.

“That being said,” continues Niijima, “I do not plan on offering you employment nor a letter of recommendation,” she firmly states, drawing her boundaries.

“That is more than understandable and respectable,” agrees Goro. “Thank you for your time today. I have kept you from your work long enough,” he says, standing and making to leave. He bows once more and turns towards the door. No one stops him, and despite the heartache this causes him, he opens the door and sees himself out of the office. The secretary smiles at him uncertainly as he leaves through the glass door and approaches the elevator. He presses the ‘down’ button and the intensity of the last 15 minutes fully hits him like a sack of bricks. Truth be told, Goro wants to break down and cry right there in the drab office hallway, but he doesn’t. He just holds his bag tightly and awaits the blinking light to signal the arrival of the elevator. Just before the elevator arrives, he feels a hand on his shoulder and he whips around, startled. Kurusu stands beside him, expression still filled with gentle concern.

“Akechi…”

“I’m sorry,” he manages to say with cracked voice, due to the dryness of his throat.

“Here...for when you’re ready,” he says with such tenderness, extending his hand.

Goro looks down at the hand and sees a business card. He takes it and examines the find gold leaf printing on the thick cream cardstock. _AKIRA KURUSU, LEGAL ASSISTANT, OFFICE OF SAE NIIJIMA, DEFENSE ATTORNEY_. Below the description is a phone number and an email. Goro looks up from the card and stares into Kurusu’s grey eyes. The gentleness with which Kurusu regards him, even to this day after all that happened, makes Goro want to punch him in the face. It makes him want to throw his own body from the sixth floor of this office. It makes him want to scream at Kurusu out of defiance, and to question why the other man still had any patience or empathy left for him.

“Thanks,” he meekly replies instead. The elevator door opens and Goro steps inside, staring pitifully back at Kurusu as the doors slide shut once more. He doesn’t remember his commute home. He doesn’t eat lunch, nor does he consider the possibility of eating dinner. He shuts the curtains of his bedroom window, surrounding himself in relative afternoon darkness, and prays that sleep will take him before his downward spiral of negativity claims him for good.

\---  
_He wakes up in a jail cell, wearing nothing but ratty, striped prison garb and chains. He is startled and stands up from his metal cot abruptly. He shuffles to the metal bars of his cell, grabbing the bars and trying uselessly to shake them open. No one acknowledges him, not even the weird, long-nosed man at the desk in the center of the room. The odd man’s desk faces not his cell, but another, part way across the room. His eyes follow the direction of the man and his desk and rest upon Joker. He stands in an open cell, wearing his costume and smiling smugly. He turns and makes eye contact with Goro from across the room. His right hand moves to his side and pulls out a gun. Joker raises the gun and aims directly at him from across the room. Goro tries to scream but no sound comes out. Surprisingly, Joker drops the gun to the floor and begins to stride towards him, still sporting a demonic grin. “Long time no see.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your patience between chapters! I've been traveling and haven't had reliable wifi. Please take this VERY LONG CHAPTER as a token of my appreciation.
> 
> *Content warning for drinking/drunkenness.

A full two weeks had passed since his meeting with Niijima, and Goro was no better off than he had been. He remained jobless, alone, and fucked up over Kurusu. The nightmares were showing no signs of stopping, and at this point he estimated that he had dreamt of the odd blue jailcell perhaps a total of four times now, dispersed among other repeating nightmares. Very few details of the dreams ever changed--Kurusu always looked a little more evil than he did in reality, and Goro was always pinned down, trapped, or locked up, depending on the dream. His mental health was not much better while he was awake either, given that he was constantly living in isolation and occupied with racing thoughts and ever present guilt. He’d never had friends--unless one counted the Phantom Thieves teammates or professional connections--and all of his hobbies were ones to be done on one's own, such as biking or rock climbing, things that would punish his body and isolate his mind, under the pretext of “self-improvement”.

It's late morning and Goro sits on the floor in front of his coffee table, alone. He's eating breakfast today. Despite his nightmares he knows he needs to nourish his body, so he eats miso soup, steamed rice, and grilled mackerel, paired with iced green tea from the convenience store. On the table beside his meal lies his phone and the business card of Akira Kurusu. Goro had been plagued by the meeting and all that had transpired, though he had noticed that his thoughts and anxieties primarily concerned Kurusu rather than Niijima. He’d known Niijima longer than Kurusu back in the day, but he had rapidly formed a tight bond with Kurusu that one summer. Having a friend--if one could label it as such--had deeply impacted Goro both mentally and emotionally. During their summer together, Goro had been shaken to his very core by the feelings he began to develop for the boy he was assigned to betray and kill. Nothing could undo the trauma he had caused himself then, and it pained him to the core to imagine the trauma he had caused to his first genuine connection. As these thoughts and emotions resurfaced for Goro over these two weeks, he had found it difficult to do much else beside wallow in his misery. For the first few days following the meeting, he didn’t leave his apartment and had firmly decided never to contact Kurusu and Niijima again. But he kept the business card, ‘just in case’--a justification made to no one but himself. After one week following said meeting, Goro changed had his mind, deciding with such forceful determination that he owed it to Kurusu to meet up again, if that’s what the other man wanted. Since then, Goro had simply been working up the emotional energy, willpower, and courage to contact him, constantly dwelling on what his message should say.

\--  
Goro sets down his chopsticks, mouth full of rice and mackerel, and picks up his phone with his left hand, swiping the screen open and selecting his messaging app with his thumb. Eyes glued to the screen, he blindly grabs for the business card with his right hand and holds it up, ready to input the contact information. He glances to the card and feels his heart skip just a beat at he reads the name. The feeling flees as quickly as it had abruptly arrived, and he begins typing the number into his phone, setting the card back down when he’s done and taking a quick swig of the green tea. It’s now or never, he tells himself.

_”This is Akechi. Are you free to meet up?”_

Goro had decided two days ago to keep this first message simple and concise. He had considered the wording of this single text message very carefully, drafting several versions in his cell phone notepad. He felt silly to be preoccupied with one of the most simple text messages he could possibly write, but Goro had not lost his need for control and precision. Thumb hovering over the send button, Goro takes a deep breath and allows his skin to make contact with the screen.

_Sent, 11:18am_

He puts his phone back on the table, face up, and returns the chopsticks to his left hand. He has only managed three more bites before his phone chimes and lights up, displaying Kurusu’s name.

_”I’m off at 6. The izakaya between my office and my apartment has awesome ramen._  
_Would you prefer to meet me in the lobby and walk there together? Or should we just meet at the pub?”_

Goro feels an inexplicable rush of anger--and admittedly,affection--from those text messages. He’s angry that Kurusu is prompt, eager, and even friendly. He’s angry that he feels just a little excited.

_”Let’s just meet at the izakaya.”_

_Akira Kurusu is typing_  
_”The address is 1120 Susaki-machi”_

The text is complete with three ramen bowl emojis in a row. Goro’s lips press together in a tight line of impatience. He chooses not to respond and returns to his breakfast. He indignantly finishes his meal before cleaning up his dishes and drags himself to his bedroom to get dressed for the day. Standing in the threshold of his room, he stares at his small chest of drawers, looks to the closet, and then back to his chest of drawers. He can’t think of anything he’ll even want to wear tonight, giving up before he’s even dug through the modest collection of clothing he’s accumulated in his early adulthood. It’s not that he doesn’t have anything nice to wear--Goro prides himself in having a fashionable and simple wardrobe--but the sudden pressure of _knowing_ he would be seeing Kurusu made him scrutinize every possible outfit option with distaste. He could throw on a black v-neck tshirt and a pair of skinny jeans, but would that be too casual as he’s seated beside a professionally dressed Kurusu? He could opt to get dressed up himself by throwing on his black pants and a blazer, but wouldn’t it also be weird if he got dressed up for the occasion of meeting an acquaintance for a cheap bowl of ramen? The longer he dwells on this, the more his frustration with Kurusu and with himself grows. He absolutely hates how much this meeting means to him.

\---  
It’s nearly 6pm and Goro is wandering the side streets of Kameido, questioning why Kurusu has chosen to live in this neighborhood. He must still be struggling to get on his feet as a 23-year-old legal assistant and probably can’t afford much. The struggle to locate the izakaya was admittedly easier than deciding on his outfit, finally selecting a long-sleeved black t-shirt with a wide neck, exposing his collarbones, his nicest pair of skinny jeans, and a pair of black boots. He had also opted to pull his hair back into a small, low ponytail and sported an oversized grey parka, since the weather was beginning to cool with the gradual approach of darkness. He stops in front of what looks to be either a ramen shop or an izakaya--the third he’s passed in this neighborhood--and looks down at his phone to double check the name. It’s the correct shop, finally, and Goro lets his phone drop into the large pocket of his parka as he pulls open the old door.

The inside of the izakaya is ideal. There is low, warm lighting throughout the small shop and plenty of private seating. There are also stools around an L-shaped countertop by the bar, where some business men and women are scattered, drinking or eating alone or in pairs. The walls and decorations are quite traditional with red lanterns and banners around the room, photos and newspaper clippings of the shop and it’s most esteemed guests and reviews framed on one wall, including one semi-recent autographed photo of Risette. Structurally speaking, there are wooden support beams and crowning to break up the white walls and ceilings, and the floors are an old, dark wood. 

As Goro takes in the shop, he notices that Kurusu has not yet arrived, and so he anxiously tries to decide where he should sit. Scanning the room one last time, he strategically beelines for the two-person table in the back left corner of the restaurant and sits with his back to the wall so that he has a clear view of the door and the rest of the izakaya patrons and staff. Hypervigilance was yet another trait he had retained over the years. Nerves prickling with anticipation, Goro tries to sit still in his chair and fidgets with his folded hands on the table and tries not to stare at the other izakaya guests. While he awaits the other man’s arrival, Goro is approached by a server who asks if he is ready to place an order. He asks the server to bring a bottle of hot sake with two cups and informs him that he will order when his…’friend’ arrives. It almost pains him to refer to Kurusu as something so intimate as a friend, but he smiles through it and the server nods and walks off, returning shortly with the requested sake. Not a moment after he makes his leave, Kurusu walks through the door and looks around to find Goro. They make eye contact and Kurusu flashes him a friendly smile from across the room and throws up his left hand in a casual wave, right hand gripping his bag over his shoulder as usual. Tonight he’s dressed in plaid grey slacks, black dress shoes and belt, and a white button up shirt--no tie. His hair is as annoyingly messy as ever. Goro’s chest tightens at the sight, and he tries to ignore it as he nods at Kurusu in acknowledgement.

Kurusu gracefully lowers himself into the chair and wastes no time naturally slipping into conversation as if Goro wasn’t some criminal who had re-appeared as suddenly as he had disappeared so long ago.

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long. Not that you’d be one to talk--I’ve been waiting for you for like six years,” he laughs. “So you ordered us sake already? Thanks, I could really use a few drinks after today. Work was so busy and Sae can be totally uptight sometimes, you know?” he says, reaching for the sake bottle and filling their two cups. “So, cheers to our reunion?” he suggests, raising his glass and tilting it toward Goro, implying he should do the same.

Goro hesitates, giving him a look of disbelief. Slowly, he raises his own cup of sake to Kurusu’s and manages to choke out a “cheers”. Kurusu clinks his small ceramic cup to Goro’s and takes a generous first sip before setting his cup roughly down on the table, barely grimacing at the strong taste and the harsh burn of the sake in his throat. Goro follows suit, but he can’t seem to match Kurusu’s easy going demeanor.

“Sorry, this is quite weird for me, and I assumed it would be rather weird for you too, Kurusu. I just want to start by apologizing again, and I feel that I especially owe you an explanation” he starts, trailing off to gauge Kurusu’s reaction.

“First of all, call me Akira. We’re not strangers,” he points out, much like he did back when Goro had first joined the Phantom Thieves and continued to refer to the leader by his surname.

“I--what? How can you act so friendly and familiar to me after six years of radio silence?” Goro demands, trying to remain patient and keep the edge out of his voice.

Akira lets out a sigh and takes another sip of sake. “Goro, what you did was fucked up. What was done _to_ you was also fucked up. And besides, you came around in the end. And you said it yourself, we could have been great friends”. They both finish their drinks to fill the silence. Goro is so moved by Akira’s empathy that he doesn’t even know how to deal with it, and guilt begins to consume him once more. “So anyway, Goro, what have you been up to?” he asks, ever so casual, as he reaches to refill their sake cups.

Shaken and uncomfortable, Goro reminds himself that he owes this explanation to Akira, for better or for worse. Before he can begin his explanation, the server returns to inquire about their order. Akira orders them two bowls of shoyu ramen and another bottle of hot sake. The server leaves to fulfill the order and Akira returns his attention to Goro, waiting expectantly.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, relax. Goro reminds himself to keep control and remain calm. “I suppose I should start from the beginning,” he says, gripping the small ceramic cup between his fingers and casting his gaze downward. “Back in the engine room, after I made you promise to bring Shido to justice, you may recall two shots ringing out from behind the steel door,” he looks up into Akira’s eyes, and Akira is already hanging on his every word. “I shot and killed the cognitive version of myself, and while I too was shot, his bullet was not fatal. I passed out at that time due to the berserk form I had taken in addition to all of the injuries up to and including that gunshot. It was quite exhausting and overwhelming to fight you all in that form for so long. I awoke some time later--how much later, I do not know.” Akira nods intently, urging him to continue. “When I managed to leave the Palace and return to the real world, I was…” Goro finishes his drink before continuing, “...so filled with shame and self-hatred and loneliness that I hid myself away while my body recovered. Shortly after becoming physically healthy, roughly around the time Shido had a change of heart, I stole away to the countryside of Akita, where I’ve lived until just a few weeks ago. The rest you know from what I told you and Niijima in her office,” he concludes, finishing his second drink just as the server arrives with the ramen and second bottle of sake.

Akira politely thanks the server, seemingly unphased by the tale, and then returns his gaze to Goro. “You’ve been through a lot,” is all that he says before picking up his chopsticks and soup spoon. “Let’s eat.”

Goro cannot, _will not_ , eat. He’s drunk, confused, and in a rapidly increasing state of turmoil due to the man seated across from him. He glares at Akira while he eats, his mouth hanging slightly ajar, stunned by the unpredictability and absurdity of this reunion. Akira looks up, hunched over his bowl with a mouth full of food, and he pauses mid-bite. “What?”

“That’s really all you have to say?” Goro spits out, fully disquieted by Akira’s behavior.

Akira swallows his food and washes it down with yet more sake before refilling both of their cups. “Goro, obviously it’s a lot for me to take in, but what more can I say? You’re here. You’re different. You’ve offered me closure and I’m offering you a second chance. Eat your ramen.”

If Goro weren’t drunk, he’d leave his ramen untouched just to spite the cocky bastard, but he’d be lying if he pretended that the alcohol didn’t make him crave the salt and oil of the food in front of him regardless of Akira’s infuriating existence.

“You haven’t changed,” he spits out bitterly.

“Oh?” replies Akira, barely looking up from his ramen to acknowledge the accusation.

Goro picks up his chopsticks and spoon, ready to dig into his own ramen at last. “Years have passed and still you throw me off. I hardly knew what to do with you then, and even now you keep me on my toes,” he chuckles despite himself.

Akira looks up and smiles a warm, charming smile that only serves to intensify Goro’s heartache. “Your comments and compliments are as underhanded as ever, I see,” he teases.

Goro wants to punch him and hug him all at once, so instead he drinks more sake. “This is actually a bit much for me, if we’re being honest,” he admits, digging into his ramen more fervently now.

“Me or the sake?” Akira quips. Goro resigns himself to a conversation full tense moments peppered with charming, bratty remarks.

“Well, both. Your kindness is throwing me off, just as it did back then. And I’m drunk, which makes it even harder to trust my judgement,” he confides, surprised that his drunk self would let so much slip. “So…” he tries, “...what happened with you? After Shido, I mean.”

Akira sits back in his chair, looking tired for the first time all night. “It’s a long story. I was arrested as leader of the Phantom Thieves while Shido was on trial, but I was later freed thanks to the help of my friends and Sae. I moved back to my hometown with my parents when my probation ended--the charges were lifted by the way--but I got pretty restless without my friends and without someplace to direct my energy. Things just weren’t the same for me back home. When I finished high school I ended up going to university in Tokyo--the same one as Makoto, actually. I studied law, because I can’t really picture myself doing anything besides helping people and enacting justice.” 

Goro raises an eyebrow in amusement, remembering their prior disagreements on what constitutes true justice. He doesn’t interupt, but the way Akira’s mouth curls in a crooked smile shows that he understands the meaning of Goro’s look. He continues to recount his recent life history. 

“Sae pretty much hired me straight away after graduation last spring, and she had made the switch from public prosecutor to defense attorney after I was freed from juvenile hall. She mostly handles domestic violence cases, but between you and me, she also does some private work related to cognitive psience and persona users. I probably should not have told you that. Oops.” He drinks more sake, not really seeming to truly regret this indiscretion.

“Wait--what?” Goro asks, panicked, color draining from his face. He had not tried to summon a persona since the engine room, and the possibility that he may have retained his wildcard ability after all this time terrified him to no end. He could not handle that responsibility. He never wanted to use a persona again and he certainly didn’t want to be tempted. Given his nightmares about Loki, he was worried sick by the thought of what this power could do to ruin his life even further.

“Shit. Yeah. I thought somehow maybe you’d know. There’s more of us. Most of them only summon one persona, but there are a few other wildcards, like us. Makoto has been working to connect other persona users over the last few years with another terrifying, take-charge young woman named Mitsuru. Seriously, she’s intimidating. Anyway, Sae’s lover is a persona user too. You may know of her partner actually? Ever hear of Naoto Shirogane?” he asks, sporting a shit eating grin and knowing full well that Goro knows exactly who Naoto Shirogane, original Detective Prince is.

“Niijima and Shirogane, really?” he says, eyes threatening to burst from his head, completely floored by this piece of gossip.

“I know! They’re great together actually. They’re the same age and they’re smart as hell. Nothing gets past those two. It started as a professional relationship, but Naoto really put the moves on Sae, and the rest is history,” Akira explains excitedly, clearly enjoying the opportunity to dish on his friends and colleagues.

“That certainly is...interesting.” Akechi chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief as he continues to eat and drink. Making light-hearted conversation with Akira is so easy after all these years, and it both thrills and horrifies Goro, and what's more, the alcohol is making it hard for him to manage this roller coaster of emotions he’s been set on.

The two finish their ramen and have yet more sake. Goro says little, and lets Akira do most of the talking, which was quite contradictory to what Goro remembered of the other man. Back in high school, Akira had typically been the silent one, speaking only when he had something important to say or some sassy comment he wanted to make. Perhaps it was the alcohol that gave Akira the change of heart tonight, but Goro was glad to have the pressure of steering a pleasant conversation off himself for once. 

Goro insists on covering the tab when the time comes to pay the bill, and the two men stand to leave together. As they enter the cool damp evening air--it seemed to have rained during their time inside--Goro becomes intimately aware of how intoxicated he has become, and so too it seems does Akira. They both stumble slightly during their first few steps down the street, bumping shoulders several times. 

“Hey, Goro?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home alone. I live only two more blocks away and I have a spare futon. You should crash at my place,” he offers, not making eye contact and shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

Goro wants to puke. Is it because of the sake, or because of Akira? He takes a deep breath of refreshing night air to ease his stomach and to buy some time for formulating a response.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” he finally replies, staring at the wet ground as they bumble forward down the dark, empty street.

“I insist, actually. You’re in no shape to get home by yourself.”

“But I also only live just a few blocks away,” Goro protests, lying.

“You do?”

“No,” he giggles drunkenly, hating his drunk self almost as much as he hates his everyday, sober self.

Akira shoves him playfully in response, and Goro nearly trips over himself, but he keeps laughing as he regains his balance. He feels something other than sadness and self-loathing for the first time since he can remember, and he can’t help but think back to his own words that have haunted him: _"I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier...we could have been great rivals or perhaps even friends."_ He cringes, spoiling the moment for himself, but the alcohol gives him courage.

“This is what I meant, you know,” he says, looking directly at Akira by his side. Akira looks back at him, confused.

“Meant by what?”

“When I said we could have been rivals or even friends. I always imagined it would be something like this,” he says quietly, a bit embarrassed that he’d said it out loud.

Akira beams at him with such strong and genuine affection and compassion that it nearly breaks Goro with its strength of heart. He could cry, or fight, and scream from his overwhelming emotions. It was all too much for him to see Akira by his side as an equal. Before he could let out an emotional outburst, Akira grabs him by the arm to stop him from walking any further down the sidewalk.

“We’re here. I live up on the third floor,” he says, pointing up at a small balcony near a telephone pole.

“Oh, right,” Goro says, remembering that he had just agreed to sleep in the house of someone he had attempted to kill in cold blood. The guilt continues to mix with alcohol in his veins, as his heart pounds and sets his insides on fire. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be here. Akira should hate him. He needs to make Akira realize that he should hate him. These thoughts take full control of his mind and heart as Akira leads him up the narrow stairwell and welcomes him into his home.

It’s too dark to take in the details of the home, and Goro is too drunk to care anyway. He’s just trying to manage his racing thoughts and racing pulse. Neither Goro nor Akira speak as each clumsily remove their shoes and drop their bags to the floor next to the shoe rack.

“Come with me,” Akira says, slurring his speech ever so slightly as he heads down a dark hallway towards what Goro can only assume is his bedroom. There are two doors, which immediately piques Goro’s curiosity. They had already passed the bathroom at the start of the hall, so could this door be a second bedroom?

“Wait, Akira. Shit. Do you have a roommate? I don’t want to be a bother, I should really be going--”

“Don’t. It’s just Ryuji and he’s not home tonight anyway, so it won’t be a big deal,” he says dismissively. “Hold on a second, I just have to get the spare futon out of my closet.”

As they cross the threshold of the door into Akira’s bedroom, Goro once again can take in very few details. He does notice, however, that Akira has a western style double bed, rather than a futon. He returns his attention to Akira, who is fumbling in his closet, presumably searching in total darkness for a futon as he continues to talk to Goro, voice muffled by the closet. 

“I can’t wait to see Ryuji’s face when he sees you here though. He’ll have a fit. I’ll warn him that someone is spending the night though, so don’t worry too much. Just make sure you’re comfortable and get a good night’s sleep, okay? Will you be needing water?” he rambles. “Or any medicine for your inevitable morning hangover? I have some--”

Goro feels sickeningly vulnerable and he cannot take the kindness any longer. Akira _must_ hate him. That’s the only way he can live with himself--if Akira hates him and makes him pay for all he’s done wrong. He can’t take this forgiveness and empathy a second longer, especially because this taste of friendship tastes so good and makes Goro forget some of the remorse he’s meant to feel the remainder of his life. He cuts Akira off mid-sentence by grabbing him forcefully by the shoulder and spinning the man around. Goro takes a sloppy swing, attempting--and failing--to punch Akira square in the face.

Akira slams Goro to the wall and pins him there by his shoulders. Goro let's out a hiss of pain and his face is furious. 

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Akira demands, his hot breath ghosting Goro’s face. Goosebumps form, betraying him.

“You should hate me! You should want me dead! Why are you being so nice to me?” Goro cries in frustration.

“Why shouldn't I be?” asks Akira, incredulous, his face softening from cold fury to heartfelt despair.

“Need I remind you of what I’ve done to you? To your friends? To innocent strangers? I betrayed you. I tried to murder you. I killed countless others on command. All that because I believed it was my destiny!”

“And so what if it was?” asks Akira, voice softening with each sentence despite the intensity of his grip and the closeness of his face to Goro’s.

He doesn’t know how to reply to this, so he shoves Akira away quite violently instead. Akira lands on his ass, and Goro stands over him, looming and full of not only rage, but also a crazed kind of sadness. Akira is sprawled on the floor, legs spread and elbows locked, supporting his weight. Goro stands above him and lowers himself to Akira’s level, straddling his waist and shoving his torso down to the ground. Akira’s head hits the floor with a thud and he winces.

“After all this time and you treat me like a fucking beloved friend, asking me to call you Akira, telling me the past is in the past. Who gave you the right to move on?” He spits. Goro bends forward, lowering his face to Akira’s, and grabs his chin with his left hand, squeezing the cheeks just a bit too roughly between his fingers. “Who gave you the right to be so fucking nice to me?”

Eyebrows knit together in anger, Akira defiantly resists Goro and uses a sudden burst of momentum to throw Goro off balance and roll him onto his side. Now on top and straddling Goro, Akira looks down at him with pain and pity on his face. He does not pin Goro down in the same way that Goro had done, leaving Goro’s arms to grasp desperately at the fabric of Akira’s shirt while Akira’s arms hang limply at his side.

“I gave myself the right, don’t you get it? I gave myself the right to live my life, to defy fate, to forge my own bonds. My friends also lent me support to help me become who I am, regardless of what fate had in store for me. I may have been fated to meet you, but it was of my own fruition that we became as close as we did back then. And it is because of our own individual free wills--especially your own, Goro--that we’re in this situation right now. And I’ll be damned if I ever let you feel as isolated and abandoned as you did back then,” Akira says passionately, almost at a yell, with years of heartache ringing in his voice as he looks down at the drunk and helpless fallen rival on his apartment floor.

Goro’s grip on Akira’s shirt loosens, and he looks up at Akira’s pained face, tears beginning to sting the corners of his own eyes. Try as he might, the tears don’t stop. The warm drops fall from the corners of his eyes, running down his temples and into his messed up hair. He begins to sob uncontrollably and tries to curl in on himself, but Akira’s weight on his body prevents him from moving, and so Goro lies there, exposed and crying on the bedroom floor of his rival and friend, Akira Kurusu.

Without missing a beat, Akira shifts his weight off of Goro’s waist and lays his own body down to the floor beside the inconsolable Goro. No longer being straddled by Akira, Goro shrinks in on himself, rolling into a ball as his entire body shakes with the force of his endless sobs. He faces away from Akira out of shame and excruciating unresolved heartache. Akira rolls his own body onto his on side and pulls Goro’s body close, holding him while he lets out years of pain and anguish. Goro doesn’t fight the physical comfort and lets himself cry himself into exhaustion. Akira stays there, sobering up and comforting Goro in silence, totally willing to stay there, holding Goro tight for as long as he needs to be kept safe from the monsters inside of him.

Slowly, Goro’s sobs slow and his breathing evens out. Neither one says anything for so long, that Akira starts to wonder if Goro had fallen asleep. Akira shifts his weight onto his elbow, keeping his other arm around Goro’s chest, and steals a look at his face. In the dark, moonlit room, Akira can see Goro’s reddened, swollen, sleeping face. He gently shakes Goro awake and guides the barely conscious man to his bed, where he tucks him in. When Goro next awakens, he finds himself atop a soft mattress with sheets that smell clean and sweet, wrapped in a heavenly soft comforter that weighs him down so perfectly. He blinks and glances to his side. There is a glass of water and two pain reliever pills on the nightside table. Sun is attempting to burst through the window, but it is thwarted by closed, thick blue curtains. The last sensation he registers before the panic sinks in is the smell of eggs frying from the other room.


	4. Chapter 4

Heart and head pounding--for different reasons--Goro shuffles down the unfamiliar hallway in yesterday’s clothing towards the smell of fresh breakfast. He pauses before he rounds the corner, poking his head around first to take stock of the situation. The layout of the apartment is not dissimilar from his own. The kitchen and main room are attached to create a wide open single room layout. This apartment is far more homey and furnished, with photos hanging on the walls, a shelf full of knick knacks, a couch and recliner, and a dining table with four chairs. The more intricate details are lost on him when he realizes that Ryuji Sakamoto has his back to him, cooking eggs on the stove. Goro bravely steps forward into the room and clears his throat to announce his presence.

Sakamoto abruptly turns around, wearing a korilakkuma apron, and somehow, Goro just knows the apron was Akira’s idea.

“Wait what the _fuck_?” Ryuji exclaims, spatula in hand. Sakamoto has really changed, but in a great way, Goro thinks, slightly taken aback. Physically, he’s really filled out, and Goro guesses he must still be quite involved in athletics judging by his broad shoulders, strong arms, and muscular calves. He no longer sports shaggy box-dyed blond hair. Instead, Sakamoto has a much more mature, albeit untraditional, hairstyle of dyed light brown hair with black roots showing through. His hair was neatly trimmed into a fade, with the hair on top of his head still quite shaggy despite the smooth shave at the nape of his neck. It really suited him, and Goro would later wonder if Akira had been giving him style tips.

“Ah, Sakamoto. Sorry to surprise you like this. Akira told me you weren’t home so...it’s uhh...nice to see you again,” he says in the most charming voice he can muster given his current hangover, anxiety, and surprise.

“Akechi? Wait for real? Akira said he ran into you recently but what the hell happened last night for you to be standing in my kitchen at 10am?” he continues, bewildered and eschewing all pleasantries.

The young men turn their heads to face the couch as they hear a loud groan. Akira has sat up and is rubbing his eyes roughly. His hair is more disheveled than usual and is sticking up at odd angles.

“Shit, sorry Ryuji. Did I forget to text you last night to tell you a friend was spending the night?” Akira says, squinting into the light of the room, likely hungover himself.

“Dude! You didn’t forget but you also didn’t mention that Goro fucking Akechi was in your bed. What the hell, man? I thought it was just Mishima or something.”

“Don’t be rude, Ryuji,” Akira says, annoyed.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll just leave, I shouldn’t have stayed anyway. I’m sorry,” Goro apologizes, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.

“No, stay,” commands Akira much to Sakamoto’s continued surprise.

“Okay, listen,” begins Sakamoto, “I’ve already made breakfast for three because I saw you on the couch, Akira, and I knew you and your friend were probably out drinking and in need of a big breakfast. But one of you,” he points the spatula accusingly at them both, “need to explain to me what the hell is going on.” He flips the eggs onto three plates and begins pouring coffee from a french press, staring at the two of them suspiciously as he does so.

“Akira and I went for drinks last night, and I had a lot of sake, so he offered me to sleep on his spare futon,” Goro calmly explains, still standing uncertainly in the threshold of the hallway and main room.

“Goro has moved back to Tokyo--as I already _told_ you, and we wanted to catch up. It’s fine, Ryuji. He’s cool. I think we can trust him,” Akira says firmly.

“But--” Sakamoto begins to cry in protest.

“Trust him for real this time,” Akira says with finality, looking intensely at his roommate, communicating something silently between their locked gazes. A tense few seconds of silence pass between the two while Goro watches with unease.

“Fine,” Sakamoto concedes, carrying all three plates at once to the small dining table and placing them down before turning back for the mugs of coffee, “take a seat Akechi.”

The three of them sit together around the small table, and the tension is almost tangible. Goro takes it upon himself to initiate conversation.

“So, Sakamoto, have you been well?” he asks, cutting off a small piece of his egg.

He gives Goro a wary, cautious look from over his plate before answering. “Yeah. S’been good for me. I’m a physical therapist, and I coach track part time at a local middle school,” he says, taking a huge bite of his food.

“Is that so? Is your team doing well?” he asks, politely, adding milk and sugar to his coffee.

“Yeah. They’re fine,” he says shortly.

Goro isn’t upset by Sakamoto’s cold and hesitant attitude, he had been just as discourteous to Akira the night before after all, so he understood where the other was coming from. Besides, this was the reaction Goro had prepared for when he imagined bumping into the adult Phantom Thieves around Tokyo--aggressive, untrusting, resentful. This reaction was much easier for Goro to understand than empathy and kindness. Thirty painfully long seconds pass as they all eat in silence. Akira holds his coffee cup up to his face, watching Goro carefully. It makes him uncomfortable and he shifts in his seat. Goro is just about to ask him if something is wrong when Akira takes a sip and places his cup down, folding his hands on the table.

“There’s something we need to tell you,” he says, betraying no emotion as he watches Goro’s face carefully.

“Ah, what is it?” Goro responds, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels. Sakamoto glances at Akira from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything.

“There’s more to what happened on our end after your disappearance,” Akira confesses calmly. Sakamoto eats more eggs in silence.

“Oh?” Goro’s anxiety is rising, prickling the back of his neck.

“I realized after what happened last night, you might need to know more of the story,” he continues carefully.

“Wait, dude, what happened last night?” Sakamoto interrupts, puzzled. “You two just went out for drinks right? Oh shit... You didn’t--” Sakamoto’s eyes widen in alarm.

Akira takes a deep breath and his nostrils flare slightly, but he remains patient. “No, Ryuji. Goro and I didn’t sleep together” he says, exercising restraint. “I only have eyes for you,” he says in monotone, catching the other two off guard.

“Dude, _what?_ ” he asks, blushing slightly and even more shocked.

“Joking,” Akira says, giving him a wink and spearing another piece of egg with his fork.

“I hate you sometimes,” Sakamoto whines, slumping back into his seat.

“Liar. Anyway,” he turns to address Goro who has also turned slightly pink from the exchange, “there’s more to your own story that you don’t know as well.”

“I don’t follow…”

Akira finishes his bite and sits back in his chair. “This is a long and complicated story, but I’ll try to keep it short and you can ask me any questions you need to.”

“Alright…”

“You and I were pawns of a malevolent god named Yaldabaoth. We were chosen because we both demonstrated huge potential within our hearts and spirit, which is why you and I were given the ability to wield multiple personas. This god had used you and I as opposing forces in the fate of humanity. You were used to incite distortion to bring about ruin. Your fate is due to what this god made your life out to be…”

Goro feels sick.

“...I was chosen to fight against this distortion. I see no reason for why either of us were assigned those roles...I believe it could have been arbitrary that you were forced down a path of ruin and I down a path of rehabilitation.”

Goro isn’t responding. He must not look okay because even Sakamoto is looking at him with a face of sympathy now.

“Ultimately, my fate would have been the same as yours, but I was able to change my fate for a number of reasons. Are you following up to now?” he asks gently.

“I am,” Goro weakly replies.

“Okay. Well, I gained the support of other beings...I don’t really quite understand it myself, but those beings are neither god nor human, and they always said to me that they ‘exist in a place between dream and reality’, whatever that means. Every once and awhile, if I went unconscious in the regular world, like going to sleep for example, I would wake up and find myself in this weird blue jailcell. I know that sounds ridiculous but--”

“Did you just say a weird blue jailcell? In your dreams?” Goro questions with such alarm that it startles the two men across from him.

“Yes...do you know it?” Akira asks hesitantly.

“I have nightmares about it. I see you there, dressed as Joker. You’re not in a cell, but I am. I feel powerless when I’m in that room and the odd man at the center of the room never seems to look at me or acknowledge me in any way,” Goro admits for the first time.

“That is bizarre. Did you have those dreams back then?” Akira asks, his turn to be puzzled.

“No...Admittedly this nightmare only began after seeing you on the subway a few weeks ago. I thought it was just a fear of seeing you or being back in the location of so much suffering,” he says quietly. “Could the others in your team go there as well?”

“We couldn’t,” Sakamoto chimes in. “We had no idea that it even existed until Akira called upon us all to face Yaldabaoth. It was super confusing, but when we woke up and Akira reminded us all of our will to fight, we gathered in that weird blue room and some little fairy type looking girl told us all about how you and this guy were fated together.”

Akira nods in confirmation of what Sakamoto has said before he continues his own explanation. “This place was called the Velvet Room, and the beings in this room were named Igor and Lavenza. In this room I received support from the attendants for months while I worked as Joker. I was taught how to use multiple personas, like dozens of them, and was guided through my journey. Without those mentors, I would have failed. In addition, Igor created Morgana. Do you remember him?”

“Of course.”

“Right. Well Morgana was all of humanity’s ‘hope’ put into a physical form. I literally had the embodiment of human hope by my side every step of the way _and_ I was mentored by deities of sorts. On top of that, I had all of my friends and teammates by my side, and without those bonds--including my bond with you, Goro--all of the hope and guidance would have been for nothing,” Akira says with conviction.

“So, you’re saying that even though we shared the same abilities and are bonded by fate, you had supernatural support and friendship, and I had...nothing?” Goro asks, pain evident in his voice.

“Yeah man...it sucks,” Sakamoto says gently. “It’s kinda like you were both the heros of a story, but no one was there for you, and so you failed. It’s unfair, but that’s how it happened.”

“So last night when it became evident that you still blame yourself for everything and doubt your past actions, I realized I had to give you the full story sooner rather than later,” Akira explains. “You did make terrible decisions on your own accord, and I do not forgive you for that, but you were also a pawn of an evil god and you were not given even a fraction of the same support that I was given in order to change your fate. And the fact that you were able to use your own willpower at the very last moment to destroy your cognitive self and ally yourself with me demonstrates that you may have had a stronger heart than I did all along. You were able to fight your own fate without any help, which is impressive,” he admits.

“I...don’t know what to say,” Goro says, wanting to cry.

“It’s alright. We’re no longer under the god’s control, Goro. We’re free now. Though, I would still guess that we’re fated together in some way or another,” Akira says warmly, smiling fondly at Goro from across the table. 

“So you’re saying...I was manipulated not only by Shido and the Phantom Thieves, but also by all of humanity and their gods?” Goro asks, still stunned and feeling increasingly helpless.

“That’s right,” confirms Sakamoto.

“And I was only able to change my fate because of your intervention?” he asks, looking up at Akira.

“Well...I suppose our bond did play a significant role in that, yes,” he agrees.

Goro swallows the lump in his throat and stands. “Thank you for the meal, Sakamoto. And thank you both for the explanation. I should go.” He turns his back to the two seated at the table, feeling too vulnerable to be around them any longer. As he walks down the hallway towards Akira’s bedroom to retrieve his phone and jacket, he hear’s Akira’s voice.

“Give us a minute, yeah?” he asks of Sakamoto.

“Uh yeah, sure. Good luck,” he hears Sakamoto’s distant reply. Footsteps follow him into the bedroom.

“Goro, are you okay?”

“Fine, thank you,” he says standing beside the nightstand, not facing Akira.

“How much of last night do you remember, Goro?” he asks.

“All of it.”

“Well back then and last night you said we could have been great rivals or friends,” he begins, “but weren’t we--aren’t we--both?”

Goro turns to face him, hands balled into fists and jaw clenched tightly, willing himself not to cry in front of Akira for the second time in under 12 hours.

“We were quite literally rivals back then,” Akira continues, “but we overcame that fate and ended up as friends. I never forgot about you all this time, and even though I was so shocked to see you on that subway, you have no idea how happy it made me to see you alive and well. I honestly never believed you were dead--I could somehow just _feel_ your presence, if that makes sense--but I did mourn you. And now you’re back. And we both have a second chance, without the interference of distortion and evil.” Akira closes the gap between them and puts his hand on Goro’s shoulder. 

The touch sends a burst of warmth to Goro’s heart, and he feels immediately soothed, just a bit. 

“I always had complicated feelings about you, you know,” Goro confides, rolling with the vulnerability. “It’s caused me a lot of heartache.”

“I would be surprised if you hadn’t,” Akira says with a chuckle. “And that goes for me too. I knew I couldn’t trust you back then, but I felt so _pulled_ to you and I just wanted that summer to last forever so that we could become friends and spend time together and show everyone that you weren’t the bad guy. You had no friends back then and I knew what that felt like. I wanted to rewrite the story that had been written for us. I wanted us to be close.”

“Now we can be.”

“You’re right,” Akira replies with another heartbreaking smile.

“I really should leave now, though. I hope you understand that this has all been a lot for me to handle, between last night and this morning. I need to be alone,” Goro says, removing Akira’s hand from his shoulder with his own hand and stepping away towards the door.

“I understand. Don’t be a stranger, Goro. Let’s meet up again soon, okay?” Akira says from behind him.

“Perhaps,” he replies. Goro makes his way in silence to the front door and collects his shoes and bag. Sakamoto is still in the kitchen and Akira has followed him back to the main room, hands shoved in his sweatpants pockets.

“It has been a pleasure, Sakamoto,” Goro says politely.

“Ryuji’s fine,” he bashfully replies.

“Right, well, it may take some getting used to,” Goro chuckles as he flashes his fake television broadcast smile--a defensive habit he may never break.

“See ya, Goro,” Ryuji calls, trying his best to be friendly and familiar for all of their sakes.

“Text me,” Akira says.

Goro nods and steps out the apartment door, alone once again.


	5. Chapter 5

_Goro snaps his eyes open, suddenly awake in the now familiar blue jailcell. As if he has no other choice, he automatically rises from his cot and approaches the steel bars. Something has changed--the long-nosed man faces directly at him rather than facing Joker’s open cell. To one side of the desk stands a small girl with long blonde hair and a blue dress. On the other side of the desk, Joker sits atop the edge casually. He's smirking, but for once he's not filled with uncharacteristic murderous intent as in his previous dreams. They all calmly watch Goro in his cell as if nothing is out of the ordinary. He stands at the bars in silence, and the man behind the desk folds his hands and smiles. “Welcome, to the Velvet Room. I am Igor.”_

\---  
During breakfast that late morning, Goro’s phone lights up with another text from Akira.

_Do you want to go out for Monjayaki with me and Ryuji tonight?_

He swipes away the notification with a sigh, ignoring the fifth text that Akira has sent him in the last ten days. He’s had a lot to think about since learning the full truth of the metaverse and his previous role in it. Feeling betrayed by fate, Goro can’t figure out who or what to trust anymore. Does it even matter if he trusts anyone? Wouldn’t fate just screw him over no matter what at this point? Was it even his decision to move back to Tokyo, or was that all part of some horrible plan in the predetermined blueprint of his life? 

Goro wanted nothing more than to reply to Akira, take him up on his offers to hang out, be with him, confide in him, relax into his vulnerability and heal with him. But he was terrified. If he took this next step and kept Akira around, who knows what could happen to either of them. Goro always wanted to have a plan and feel in control, but Akira was a wildcard and Goro’s life was apparently at the whims of fate. Recently, Goro finds himself thinking of the woman who came to visit the inn where Goro had stayed in Akita. He couldn’t remember her name, but she was a fortune teller of sorts who had grown up in the area and was returning for the first time in years. What had she said? “Where The Fool jumps, the abyss opens,” or something of the sort. He knew he had to do it, to brazenly leap forward into this new world and start his own journey, on his own terms, but he was afraid of what he would learn about himself along the way. But if that fortune teller could return to the village that had left her heartbroken and alone, then Goro could take a leap of faith back into the depths of Tokyo.

So here he was, a month of free falling through a city that had failed to catch him the first time. Goro was undeniably doing better, even if better meant only the slightest of improvements. Since meeting up with Akira, his nightmares had ceased, replaced instead by dreamless sleep and the occasional hyper-realistic recurring vision of the blue jailcell. Mentally, it was hard to admit to himself, but he still wasn’t coping very well. Choosing to spend most of his time in continued isolation felt safe, if self-destructive, as he was having difficulty coping with the empathy and friendship afforded to him by Akira, and to his surprise, even Ryuji. Being around those two crushed his heart like a cold steel vice. It felt so good to have a friend but Goro was afraid that friendship was doomed to be fleeting and destined for despair. He couldn’t survive being on either end of betrayal again, and his fear was holding him back from opening his heart to the only person who had tried to be by his side after all this time. And so he’s pushing him away instead. He’s got this ‘being alone’ thing down pat. He finishes his breakfast, washes his dishes, and throws on a t-shirt and jeans. On his way down the stairs of the apartment complex, he ties back his hair.

Goro had recently purchased a cheap road bike so that he could spend hours of his free time biking along the trails and through the large parks of the city. It was old, but the nearly 30-year-old Nishiki Modulus was classic and sleek and unassuming. It wasn’t as fancy as the Miele he had in highschool, nor was it quite as iconic as the mint green Bianchi from the inn, but he already loved his new bike dearly. It was his promised reward to himself for landing a job; at the start of the next month he would become an apprentice to a respected private investigator, Kaori Tamaki, which genuinely excited him. He would learn new skills, have very few coworkers to deal with, and always have his mind occupied with problems and puzzles that weren’t his own. Between the exercise on his road bike and the mental athleticism that would be demanded of him at his new job, Goro was confident that he could stabilize with these simple forms of escapism.

A healthy body and mind felt incomplete without Akira, however, and Goro’s mind always managed to find time and energy to wander back to hole in his heart that had only grown in recent weeks. The nagging potential of ‘what could be’ was growing harder to ignore with every text message, daydream, and stray reminder. Maybe if Goro tried to see other people, he would need Akira less. With this hypothesis in mind, Goro has biked several kilometers from his home neighborhood all the way to Yongen-jaya. He dismounts his bike and steadies it by the black saddle, walking the bike down the narrow side street towards LeBlanc. He leans his bike against a traffic sign and locks the red and white bike frame to the metal pole with a black U-lock.

He wipes a bead of sweat from his temple with the back of his hand and pulls open the door to the cafe before he can overthink it and convince himself to turn back. The bell tingles, alerting a salt-and-pepper haired Sojiro Sakura to the arrival of a new customer.

“Welcome to LeBlanc. I’ll be with you in just a moment--I’ve got to take care of the curry for a minute,” calls Sojiro. Goro nods, trying to resist the flashbacks that the mixed scent of sweet coffee and spiced curry are causing. All at once he feels guilt, longing, deep sadness, and something else. He feels like he’s come home. It’s nearly enough for Goro to rush back out of the cafe, but he resists the urge. The three tables at the side of the room are all occupied--the cafe must have been doing much better in recent years. Goro takes a seat at the counter, nearest the yellow payphone. It feels too familiar. It feels too comfortable.

Goro’s emotions are starting to calm as Sojiro returns from the kitchen. He walks straight up to Goro from across the counter and leans his elbows on the ledge. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Ah. Yes, I’ll have the lunch special please,” Goro says, feeling awkward that Sojiro has yet to recognize him. Should he tell him?

“Coming right up,” he replies and sets off back to the kitchen before Goro can say anything more.

Sojiro returns quickly enough, his service as prompt as ever. “Here you go, enjoy.” He pauses, lingering in front of Goro for a moment, studying his face. “Say, we’ve met, haven’t we? Were you one of Akira’s friends back in high school?”

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it. I’m Goro Akechi,” he confirms with unease, afraid Sojiro may cause a scene in his own cafe in front of all the other patrons.

“Well shit. Never thought I’d see you here again. I have half a mind to kick you out, but you must have a good reason for turning up here after six years. So what is it?”

Goro is almost taken aback by the level-headed--though distrustful--reaction, but accepts it at face value, letting just a bit of his defenses down. Sojiro is leaving pleasantries by the wayside, and Goro is used to this type of treatment. He had prepared for hostility, so he could certainly handle minor social discomfort.

“I’ve moved back to Tokyo. I was living in the countryside since you last saw me. I’m trying to live my life according to the true principles of justice now. I’ve earned a degree in criminology and I’ll begin as an understudy to a local detective soon,” he says, briefly bringing Sojiro up to speed.

“Does he know you’re here?” Sojiro doesn’t need to clarify whom he means by ‘he’, they both understand where this conversation is going and where Sojiro’s loyalties lie. 

“He does. We’ve met recently. He’s offered to be my friend, which is well more than I deserve,” he answers with a friendly chuckle.

“I’ll say,” replies Sojiro moodily, raising his eyebrows. “Well if Akira says you’re alright, then you’re alright. Enjoy your meal, I hope it’s even better than you remember it, Akechi.”

“Thank you very much, Boss,” he says with a practiced smile as Sojiro turns and walks back towards the coffee brewing equipment at the other end of the long counter.

Goro finishes his meal in silence and lingers at the counter with his coffee and the novel that has been lying in his bag for the last couple of weeks. He’s nearly finished it, so no harm in completing yet another book at LeBlanc, for old times sake. An hour and a half later he returns the novel to his bag, basking in the indescribable sensation one feels after turning the final page to an enjoyable story. The afternoon has been thoroughly therapeutic, he muses as he steals a glance at the clock. It’s nearly dinner time, but Goro is in no rush to leave just yet. It was so easy to linger in LeBlanc for hours on end, and he was unsurprised to be finding peace here once again years later. He looks back across the room toward Sojiro who has just finished putting away some clean mugs back onto the wooden shelf. He must feel Goro’s eyes on him because he soon turns to make eye contact.

“You need a refill?” he calls from the other side of the counter.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you,” he politely declines. Caffeine in the evening no longer bodes well for him.

“Ah, are you on your way out then? Thanks for stopping by.”

“The pleasure was mine.” They exchange cordial smiles, and Sojiro is the first to break eye contact and turn away. Goro, however, isn’t ready to go. “Say, Boss…”

“Hmm?” He turns back around and folds his arms across his apron.

“What ever became of the attic up there?” he asks, tilting his head towards the stairs.

“Oh, Akira’s old room? It was left unchanged for a while so that he could stay here some nights. He and Makoto pulled a lot of all nighters studying at the cafe while they were in university together. But now that he has his own place with Sakamoto, I’ve fixed it up a bit and made it into a bit of a private lounge. He and his friends meet up one weekend of every month up there, no matter how busy or how far they are. They were just here last weekend, actually,” he says, thoughtful as his gaze on the stairs lingers. “You can check it out if you want.”

“I will, thank you.” 

Goro takes his leave from the counter and carefully ascends the stairs, expectant. It’s truly bizarre to be standing in this room again, as if the attic were never real to begin with. The room certainly does look different than how he remembered it, but a handful of elements remain unchanged. The plant at the side of the room looks healthy as ever, and the glow in the dark constellation stickers are still on the wooden ceiling beams. There is a large kotatsu at the center of the room, likely still left out from the cold winter season since the spring temperatures had been so up and down this year. There was no longer a sleeping space, but new couches and chairs had been added to the room. The same old bookshelf and television set were also still here, but both are more filled out with a collection of video games, DVDs, books, and boardgames. Against one wall are many framed photographs, taped up pictures, and a small chalkboard. He approaches this wall with intrigue.

The photos show the Phantom Thieves immortalized in the memories of the last six years of their individual lives. There is a photo of Takamaki ripped from a magazine with devil horns and a tail drawn over her, and below that a crudely drawn picture of Ryuji being speared by a devil’s pitchfork in retaliation. In one frame is a photograph of Okumura holding an infant--had she married and started a family? Next to the chalkboard, a very well drawn doodle of Morgana was tacked to the wall and autographed by Kitagawa. The chalkboard itself displayed even more jokes and references shared by the young adult friend group. Someone had drawn what appeared to be an old Phantom Thieves calling card in chalk, which read “ _Cheating Bastard Akira Kurusu, you have broken the rules of Settlers of Catan too many times and selfishly hoard all of the brick resource cards to yourself. Enough is enough, you will pay for your crimes. Signed, Queen_.” Goro lets out a quiet laugh. He’s unfamiliar with the board game, but he’s not surprised to find that Akira is an insufferable opponent. On the other side of the chalkboard, someone has written “ _Days since the last incident: 12_.” It’s surrounded by several distressed emojis. Goro is mildly concerned, but finds it humorous regardless.

He steps away from the wall and takes in the details of the room one last time, letting out a content sigh before he turns to descend the stairs.

“Thank you again, Boss. The coffee brought back a lot of memories,” he says, bidding Sojiro farewell.

“Come by anytime, Akechi. I’ll tell Akira you came.”

“T-that’s--yes.” He’s starting to panic slightly that Akira may be around next time he’s at LeBlanc. He should have realized that Sojiro wouldn’t keep his visit from Akira and his friends.

Goro leaves the cafe and begins the hour bike ride back to his apartment. Once he’s returned, he takes a quick shower to rinse the sweat off his body, changing into a clean t-shirt and pair of boxers as the heat of the afternoon has made his small apartment stuffy with stale hot air. Now refreshed, he flops onto the couch with his phone in hand. Exhaustion hits him almost immediately as his sore muscles and tired mind catch up to him. It’s a Friday night and as much as Goro would enjoy monjayaki with friends, he’s just too spent to leave his apartment. Besides, he won’t meet with Akira again even if his heart tells him that he should. It will just be too complicated for them both if Goro starts taking up space in his life. And if he cuts Akira off now, just after they’ve both gotten closure, then it would be easier on them both to just gradually grow apart again, becoming strangers once more. After taking a minute to relax, Goro raises his phone to his face to check for any notifications he may have missed during the day, not that he was expecting any. It’s not like he had friends who sent him photos and messages and funny links.

_4 unread messages from Akira Kurusu_   
_This *is* your number, right Goro???_   
_You haven’t replied to me at all…_   
_Are you okay? I know it was a lot to take in so if you want to talk about anything, just let me know._   
_Tell me if you got these messages at least, or else I’m going to show up at your apartment tomorrow morning and see for myself that you haven’t run off again. Don’t test me._

Goro scoffs. What a hollow threat. Akira doesn’t even know his address, let alone his neighborhood. So clearly that means he doesn’t have any serious intention of following up with Goro if he’s willing to make such a baseless claim, which means that Goro can continue to just leave Akira to move on in peace. He resists the urge to send a snarky reply of “good luck!” or “I’d like to see you try” and puts his phone face down on the table. The battery is nearly dead but he’s too tired to get up and charge it. Having pushed himself so hard in the last few days both mentally and physically, Goro falls asleep on the couch with the setting sun flooding through his windows.

\---

He awakes to banging on his door and sits bolt upright, startled and disoriented. He checks his phone for the time, but the phone is dead and won’t light up. Realizing he’s fallen asleep on the couch in his underclothes, he groans as he squints at the watch on his wrist. It’s about 10am. How long had he slept? The pounding at the door continues and he hears a voice calling his name. 

“Goro! Hey! Let me in!” Goro freezes in distress. How the hell had Akira actually managed to find his apartment? He scrambles to the door and slowly unlocks it. The sound of the sliding lock alerts Akira to his presence on the other side of the door and the banging subsides. Goro cautiously pulls the door open just a crack, revealing Akira in the hallway.

“Honey, I’m home.” Akira greets in a sing-song voice.

Goro slams the door in his face. “No. No way, Akira. No,” he says in a raised voice through the closed door.

Akira actually laughs from the other side. “Joking, joking! I couldn’t resist. Now let me in, please! I’m just here to see if you’re okay and I brought food.”

Goro’s hand hovers over the doorknob. He’s torn between hiding in his bed or letting Akira in. His heart is throbbing and curiosity is starting to get the better of him, so he begrudgingly pulls open the door all the way, more quickly this time.

“Come in.” His invitation is monotone.

Akira walks into the apartment like he’s already familiar with it, sliding off his shoes next to the mat and walking towards the kitchen counter to drop the two plastic bags of snacks and groceries. He turns back to Goro, who’s still standing by the door in a mixture of astonishment and annoyance. 

“Tuna onigiri?” he asks, tossing one of the two onigiri from his hands to Goro from across the room. Goro catches it with ease without taking his eyes off Akira’s the whole time. Akira frowns.

“Your hair looks even messier than mine, are you alright?” he asks in concern as he unwraps the onigiri.

“If you’ve come here to insult me, you may leave,” he says icily, feeling self-conscious in his boxers, t-shirt, and disheveled hair.

“Goro, relax. I’m just worried about you is all. I haven’t heard from you, you haven’t returned my messages, and I was afraid I told you too much too soon or something.” He takes a bite of his onigiri and walks across the room to the couch. “May I sit?”

Goro nods and follows him to the couch, sitting on the opposite side and turning his body to sit sideways with his back leaning on the armrest and his thighs pulled to his chest. He begins unwrapping his own onigiri, ravenous from not having eaten since his lunch at LeBlanc the day before. 

“I’m fine,” he says dismissively. “How did you find my apartment?” If he’s the one asking questions, then Akira can’t pry into his emotional state.

“Have you forgotten that one of my best friends is a genius hacker? I asked Futaba if she could locate you and she was insulted that I had implied with my question that there was a chance that she _couldn’t_ locate you. She doxxed you in like two and a half minutes--it was terrifying.” He pauses for a fraction of a second as his expression turns playful. “Also, I didn’t know you were a Gemini. Can’t say I’m surprised. Your birthday is coming right up, huh?” He’s smirking from across the couch.

“Oh my god. This is a blatant invasion of privacy.” His offense is mostly an act. Truthfully, he’s impressed and struggling to hide a smile by taking a bite of his food.

Akira is smiling too and the smile reaches his eyes. It’s so charming that Goro’s heart skips a beat, which frustrates him to no end. The teasing doesn’t end with words, and Akira gently shoves Goro’s legs with one of his feet. “Ah, there’s a smile,” he remarks as Goro grins despite himself.

They finish their onigiri in content silence and toss the empty plastic wrappers onto the coffee table when they’re done.

“So, how have you really been?” Akira asks, getting back to the real reason for his sudden visit.

“I told you, Akira, I’m fine.” Goro will not budge.

“Goro, not only is that a lie, but it’s not even a believable one. You’ve been through a lot. You’re _still_ going through a lot. Same goes for me. You’re not fine, and I know that from first hand experience.”

The vulnerable confession hurts Goro, and he once again feels guilt for the pain he knows he’s caused Akira to have to deal with in his young life. He has to remind himself that he was not the only one to betray the teenaged Akira. He had also been betrayed by the criminal justice system and the adults in his life who should have protected him.

“I’m still...I’m still down,” Goro admits quietly, looking at his knees as he pulls his thighs even tighter to his chest.

“Me too. Sometimes.”

Goro looks up at him, and Akira’s face is that of a 23-year-old kid who’s been through as much trauma as Goro. For the first time, Goro is looking at Akira as an equal, rather than as someone to be admired and envied and resented.

“It’s not fair. What’s happened to me. What’s happened to you,” Goro says.

“That’s why we need each other. We need to resist fate and carve out our own path with our loved ones. My friends were all that got me by in my darkest hours.”

Goro lets the silence hang between them, heavy and important. He bites the inside of his cheek in thought, trying to imagine how things could have been different if only he had met Akira as a child, or even if he had any friends at all growing up. It’s a thought process he’s dwelled on for far too long but can’t resist revisiting time and time again. 

“You’re thinking about the past, right? And what could have been different?” Akira probes.

“Yes.” 

“We may be shaped by our pasts, but our futures are our own,” Akira states with confidence.

“Easy for you to say,” Goro spits, bitterly reminded of all Akira has and all Goro himself had been denied.

“Goro, look at me,” he says with authority. Goro raises his eyes to Akira’s which look tortured and sad. “I’m sorry, Goro.”

“For what, exactly?” he asks in genuine confusion.

“I’m sorry for failing you. I tried to be there for you back then. I tried to show the Phantom Thieves that you weren’t all bad, tried to convince them that you’d change. I tried not to treat you differently when your public popularity dwindled. But all I tried to do for you wasn’t enough, and it broke my heart to see you make those terrible, destructive decisions. I don’t believe that you really wanted to kill me or any of your victims. Despite all you did and how much you disappointed me, I couldn’t hate you for it. All I could think about was how easy it could have been for our roles to be reversed. I’m so sorry, Goro. And now that you’re back and you’re alive and you’re _okay_ , I want us to spin fate to our advantage this time. Together.” 

Akira looks pained and lost and full of remorse. Tears begin to sting Goro’s eyes.

“I always envied you for your strength and friendship and determination. But I see now that you were also struggling, and that Joker was a mask of your own. You probably put on as much pretenses as the Charming Detective Prince Goro Akechi, yeah?” Goro lets out a sad laugh, and Akira smiles weakly.

“I’m afraid to let you in, Akira. I’m afraid to hurt you and I’m afraid for you to hurt me. Facing myself ruined my life and I don’t understand how you can bear to face me today.”

“I’m here because I want to be,” he reminds Goro gently.

“And that’s what fucks me up!” he exclaims, relaxing his posture and releasing his legs from his chest. “Your acceptance means so much to me, it’s absurd! And I’m afraid you’ll change your mind at any moment! I can’t take another heartbreak like the one I’ve already caused myself!” Angry, desperate tears are silently falling down Goro’s cheeks as Akira watches him with concern.

“I won’t change my mind, Goro. You have my word. And I don’t break my promises,” he poignantly reminds him.

Akira closes the distance between them and eases his body to the middle of the couch. He hesitates for a moment before putting his arm around Goro. The deep and hidden part of Goro that has always craved affection and approval caves in and lets Akira just hold him like that. His heart is pounding and full of conflicting emotions, and Goro feels pulled in so many directions at once. He turns his body and buries his face into the crook of Akira’s neck and shoulder and flings his arm across the other boy’s chest. Akira no longer smells of coffee, but he still smells sweet and clean. His scent sends a hot rush straight to Goro’s heart and he swallows hard. Akira has begun to gently stroke his back, easing smooth circles into his t-shirt to soothe him.

“Thank you,” Goro muffles into Akira’s skin, hating that he has to beat down the urge to press a tender, soft kiss to Akira’s neck.

Akira takes a deep calming breath and rests his face into Goro’s hair. “We’re going to be okay. Both of us.” Goro squeezes his arms around Akira even tighter. He believes him. Goro trusts someone other than himself for the first time in his 24 years of life.

“Will you stay here for a little while?” Goro asks sheepishly, feeling childish and exposed.

“I wouldn’t leave even if you kicked me out. Today can be just about us.”

“Thank you,” he says again, shifting his weight to cuddle up to Akira more comfortably. He could get used to giving thanks instead of apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think I'm actually going to write several thousand words about their one-on-one hang out in Goro's apartment that day then you're absolutely right. The hurt/comfort is as endless as mementos so buckle tf up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is so much longer than I ever intended it to be and it's showing no signs of stopping. Thanks for your patience with my updates! I'm so busy irl omg.

An hour passes with Akira and Goro entwined on the couch in total silence. Akira is seated in a rather standard position, but Goro is still draped over Akira’s lap, sitting sideways so that he’s leaning into the crook of Akira’s arm with his legs resting over Akira’s lap. Goro is so comfortable with his cheek resting on Akira’s shoulder and his nose just barely touching Akira’s neck, and Akira has made himself at home resting his head just slightly against Goro’s. It’s even more relaxing than a nap, almost meditative in the way that they only focus on even breathing, beating hearts, and holding each other together. Physical intimacy is new go Goro, and though he had always shied away from touch before, this felt just like what he needed. Goro lets out a deep, cathartic sigh, stirring Akira.

“Hmm?” Akira hums.

“It’s nothing. I just felt like I needed to let out a breath, you know?”

“Mmm” 

Goro stretches and resettles himself more comfortably around a barely awake Akira. Akira hums once more in contentment as Goro finishes adjusting his body.

“It’s tomorrow. June 2nd,” he says from nowhere, thinking back on the earlier conversation.

“What is?” Akira asks groggily.

“My birthday. You know. Since you asked,” he says, suddenly feeling awkward for having brought it up.

Akira is suddenly more alert. “For real? Do you have any plans?” 

Goro shakes his head no in response.

“Well tomorrow is Sunday, so me and Ryuji have off from work…” he starts, letting the implication hang.

“You don't need to go out of your way for me,” he protests, hoping Akira would call his bluff and insist on arranging birthday plans.

“What do you usually do for your birthday?” Akira asks. Is he trying to get ideas?

“Well I never told the innkeepers my date of birth, so the last time I did anything to celebrate was around the time I met you. Niijima treated me to sushi.”

“You haven't celebrated your birthday in six years?” he cries, appalled. “That's wild. Morgana doesn't even have a birthday and even he insists on us making a special day for him each year. Don't you like your birthday?”

“It's complicated…” he admits, trailing off in hopes that Akira would drop that line of questioning. Akira looks deep in thought.

“Complicated because…” He stretches out the last syllable as he thinks. “...you like the positive attention, but it brings up bad memories from childhood?”

Goro’s throat tightens and his body tenses up against the other boy’s body. “Correct.”

“So can I plan something for you? Or would that be too much?” Ever so considerate.

“As I said, no need to--”

“I know I don't need to, but I want to as long as it's fine with you,” he insists.

“Yes, in that case you may do something small for me, if you really want to and you're not too busy.”Goro complicates and qualifies the acceptance of Akira’s offer in order to give the other man an out.

Akira gives Goro a tight squeeze, and although they can't see each others’ faces, Goro can hear the smile in his voice when Akira simply responds, “Great!”

They fall back into another comfortable, happy silence and Goro can genuinely not remember ever feeling so relaxed except for when he was alone in a hot spring or spending a late night at LeBlanc. He doesn't dare stir or check the time, afraid any change could bring them apart once more.

Akira however is less afraid to move. Cautiously at first, he begins to thread his fingers through Goro’s long hair. It's such a pleasant sensation and a boldly intimate gesture that it elicits a satisfied hum from his throat. Immediately, his cheeks start to blush because of the noise he's just made against his own will, but Akira isn't phased and continues to gently stroke his hair and scalp. A stray pinky finger grazes the delicate skin behind his ear, raising goosebumps along his arms. Goro’s entire body is beginning to tingle and feel too warm and a rush of endorphins pumps through his tightening chest. He ventures to return the touch and gently caresses his fingertips onto Akira’s exposed bicep, just barely skimming the skin beneath the hem of his t-shirt. His skin is soft and his muscles are tight, making him want to touch more and more. He runs a thumb over the bicep, pressing into the muscle a just slightly harder. Goro is buzzing with affection and tenderness and is trying to quell the rising panic in the back of his mind. These were the same feelings that had begun to develop so many summers ago, and back then it took all of Goro’s expendable energy to squash those feelings before they could ruin everything he was trying to work for in sabotaging the Phantom Thieves. What would happen if he gave into the feelings this time? Did he have much more to lose? The stakes feel just as high this time though. Before he risked throwing away a lifelong revenge plot, and now he risks alienating the only friend he has if the feelings aren't reciprocated. And honestly, how could Akira feel the same way? Sure, there was obvious tension between the two of them, but Goro doubted that Akira would be so reckless as to date his former rival.

If the tension is showing in his body, Akira graciously ignores it as he continues to affectionately rub and stroke Goro’s hair and skin. All of the movements between them are calm and repetitive as if their hands are on autopilot. Each movement continues indefinitely until a muscle or hand starts to cramp, and then the slightest of shifts is made to accommodate their prolonged physical intimacy. 

“Goro, your muscles are really tight,” Akira notes after moving his hand from Goro’s hair, down to his shoulder blade, rubbing hard circles into a knot with his thumb. 

Goro hisses at the pain, his breath ghosting Akira’s skin before he can reply. “I’ve been cycling. A lot. In addition, I fell asleep on the couch last night,” he says roughly as Akira continues to work on the knot with his hand.

“Do you want a massage?” Akira offers like it’s nothing.

Goro jerks his head away to look Akira in the face. “Are you always so presumptuous?” he sneers.

“Are you always so prudish and uptight?” he laughs. “I give Ryuji massages sometimes. He’s practiced on me and taught me a lot since he’s started doing physical therapy and coaching”.

“Yes, however--”

“It’s just an offer. You’re tense and you’re already cuddled up to me in your pajamas so I thought we had just skipped the pretenses.”

Goro blushes, but doesn’t argue the point. He knows when he’s been backed into a corner.

“Thanks.”

“Is that a yes?” Akira chuckles, amused.

“I can’t deny that a massage would be relaxing. I’m just…”

“Unable to let down your defenses and become very timid when someone hits you with an unexpected comment?”

Goro glares at him but doesn’t deny it. He peels his body off Akira reluctantly and stands, looking back at Akira with determination.

“My futon will be best then.” Taking inspiration from Akira’s cockiness, he turns without waiting for Akira to reply. Thankfully, Akira follows without protest and doesn’t make anymore snide, teasing comments as Goro settles himself face down onto the futon. In no time, Akira is straddled over Goro’s lower back and eases himself down to rest on Goro’s ass. Goro’s heart beats wildly on the futon and he keeps his face buried and body still. 

“Where does it hurt most?” Akira asks.

“Mmm...lower back, shoulders, and neck” he answers gruffly. 

And like that, Akira presses the heels of his palms into the small of Goro’s back, pushing him firmly into the futon as smoothes the muscles up and out. Despite every mental effort to stay silent, Goro inevitably lets out the occasional grunt or satisfied sigh. The pressure is nice, if not painful at times, but his shirt keeps bunching up from all of the movement, causing Akira to repeatedly need to stop his motions and adjust the shirt fabric.

“Goro, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but would you mind removing your shirt? It’d be much easier for me to massage you that way. If that’s too much though, I can manage like this,” he offers without any teasing tone or annoying jab.

“Alright,” he acquiesces, rotating his body underneath Akira so that he can sit up and remove the shirt himself. Akira, however, doesn’t get up, continuing to straddle Goro as he twists beneath him. On his back, Goro looks up at Akira and is met with an intense stare coupled with a poker face which betrays no emotion. Goro feels vulnerable and has a flashback to the nightmares of Joker pinning him to the floor with the intent to kill. This isn’t a nightmare, he reminds himself. He takes a deep breath to steady his racing thoughts and emotions and he props himself up on his elbows, keeping his gaze locked with Akira’s. Neither speak and several intense seconds pass, feeling like an eternity. Goro sits up the rest of the way, and Akira sits back, allowing Goro more room, but just barely. Their faces are under a foot apart and Akira’s stare is unrelenting. Goro is so overwhelmed by the physical tension of it all, that he’s surprised his hands don’t shake as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. Almost in sync, Goro lowers himself back down to the futon and Akira is immediately returning to his position above him, eyes locked the entire time. Every nerve in Goro’s body is screaming and his mouth has gone dry. He breaks the moment first, shifting his body beneath Akira and lying face down on the futon once more. Now free from Akira’s heated stare, Goro tries to relax despite the prickling in his neck and the pooling desire in his abdomen. Silently, Akira returns his warm hands to Goro’s back, this time beginning by rubbing hard circles with his thumbs into the tense muscles between Goro’s neck and shoulder. Goro lets out a soft moan, momentarily mortified, but reassured by Akira’s calm, methodical massage. He was probably used to the satisfied sounds Ryuji made from his massages, which was a relief.

“How does this feel?”

“Hurts, but it’s nice,” he says shortly.

“Let me know if it’s too hard or if you need me to give any muscles a break.”

“Mhmm.”

Another moment of silence passes as Akira continues to rub his warm, soft hands on Goro’s skin. Goro would otherwise be cold without his shirt, but Akira’s body heat paired with Goro’s racing pulse is enough to keep him comfortable. 

“Why did you sleep on the couch last night?” he asks, breaking the silence once more.

“It was an accident. I’ve been having weird dreams and not sleeping well. I’ve also been overexerting myself recently. I must have overdone it.” 

“More dreams about the Velvet Room? And Joker?” he guesses.

“Yes, but they’re not quite nightmares anymore. Before, it felt like I was just trapped in a random cell and only you would acknowledge me. But last night I was trapped in the cell directly facing the desk. You were there and so was the odd man and the little girl. This time, the man addressed me. He said his name is Igor, and he welcomed me to the Velvet Room.”

Akira’s hands freeze on Goro’s shoulder blades, and immediately Goro can sense his tension.

“What?” Akira breathes, sounding alarmed.

“Is that...bad?” Goro asks, becoming worried. “It wasn’t a nightmare like before, so I thought this would have been good…” he explains anxiously, trying to reassure Akira as much as reassure himself.

“It’s just...that is what happened before I met you. Right around the time I gained my abilities and took down Kamoshida. It led me through that whole...game with fate,” he explains, clearly distressed and lost in the memories.

“Do you think that means something similar is in store for me?”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

“How do I get out of my cell, like Joker?” he asks, hoping for guidance.

“I’m not sure...it could be different for you, but for me I had to play that game of fate and save humanity from ruin. It was complicated. It didn’t happen right away. I had to overcome a lot, both in society and within myself, before I was truly free.”

“I see. How interesting,” Goro replies, evidently more calm about the whole situation than Akira, who has still yet to move his hands. Sensing that the massage wouldn’t continue, Goro rolls himself back over and pulls his body out from underneath his friend, not eager to repeat another moment of some kind of unspoken sexual tension. He scoots back and leans over to grab his discarded shirt, feeling Akira’s eyes on him the entire time before he finally pulls the shirt back over his head. Akira is looking at him with concern as he finally settles, sitting cross legged on the futon.

“I have an idea,” Akira finally says with a look of determination.

“Oh? Should I be worried?” Goro chuckles, flashing Akira a smile.

“I was thinking, for your birthday tomorrow we could go to this bar in Shinjuku that I’ve always liked. We could invite some of my other friends, if that’s not too overwhelming for you. But we could keep it just you, me, and Ryuji if that’s easier for you to handle. And there’s somewhere else you need to go while we’re there,” he says.

Knowing Shinjuku’s reputation, Goro is immediately suspicious of where this other place could be. “And just where would that be?” he asks in a mocking tone, raising an eyebrow. His assumption, however, is completely off. 

“I want to show you how to get to the Velvet Room without falling asleep”.

\---

Goro is on his way to Shinjuku via subway around 9pm that night, equal parts nervous and excited about his first birthday celebration in recent memory. He had agreed to let Akira invite a few people, which admittedly made Goro hyper aware of how truly alone he was without friends of his own. He anxiously wonders who would even show up given that none of the other ex Phantom Thieves had been given the opportunity to meet up with Goro face to face since he had returned. He’d soon find out, because Akira had instructed him to wait by the subway exit so that he could walk them to the bar as a group.

Not seeing anyone he recognizes, Goro leans up against a wall out of the way of other pedestrians and passengers. He checks his phone a few times, glancing at the time or his empty notification screen, but he mostly just watches the crowd for the few moments he spends waiting. Soon enough, Akira is approaching him with Ryuji, Kitagawa, Sakura, and some other guy their age that he doesn’t recognize. Akira throws a hand up to wave at Goro, his crooked grin sending a hot rush of longing through Goro’s veins, which he attempts to ignore. Once they’re within earshot, Ryuji calls out.

“Yo! Goro! Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Ryuji,” he says with a genuine smile stretching across his face. It had been so long since he’d heard those words of congratulations directed at him. The small gang of friends now stood before him, smiling politely. Their smiles didn’t mask their uncertainty and discomfort.

“You remember Futaba and Yusuke,” Akira gestures lazily beside him, “and this is Yuuki Mishima. I can’t remember if you ever met.”

“It’s nice to meet you!” Mishima says with heartfelt friendliness. What a relief it was to be meeting someone who didn’t have a predisposition to resent him.

“Likewise. Thank you for coming along to celebrate my birthday, Mishima. It’s wonderful to make new friends, as I’ve just moved back to the city and I’m quite lonely,” Goro laughs.

“Don’t mention it! Any friend of Akira’s is a friend of mine,” he beams. Akira turns his head and shoots Mishima an affectionate smile.

“Speaking of which, welcome back, Akechi,” Kitagawa cuts in.

“Yeah, took you damn long enough,” Sakura teases, smiling despite the jab.

“Thank you both for being here as well,” Goro says bashfully. “I take it Akira has brought you up to speed about my return?” he asks, glancing around at everyone’s faces, trying to gauge the situation.

“Yep,” Sakura says, giving him a thumbs up.

“Enough small talk, we can all catch up the bar,” Akira interrupts.

“To Crossroads!” Sakura exclaims, pointing dramatically in the air. She leads the charge and everyone follows. Akira hovers back just a bit, allowing his and Goro’s pace to fall back behind the rest of the group.

“Hey,” he says quietly, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Yes?” Goro asks, keeping his tone quiet as well.

Akira is looking straight ahead as he speaks. “To my left,” he says without turning his head, “do you see anything weird?”

Goro cranes his neck and tries to take in the scenery as fast as possible while they pass. Suddenly, he notices an ethereal blue door with a young girl standing beside it.

“Wait, what the hell?” he gasps, keeping his voice down.

“Okay, so you can see it. That makes just you and me, from our group at least.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Goro asks, confused entirely by the response.

“That’s the Velvet Room. The other Phantom Thieves have been inside, but can’t see it anymore. Now it’s just you, me, and a few others. Maybe you’ll meet some of the one day, perhaps Seta and Aigis,” he explains quickly and in a hushed one as to not draw suspicion from the rest of the group. Five feet ahead of them Kitagawa and Sakura are playfully bickering while Mishima laughs.

“What kind of name is Aigis?” Goro scoffs.

“One given to an anti-shadow suppression weapon,” he says blandly, as if that would mean anything to Goro.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“She’s a robot, but like...a humanized robot. Long story. Very tragic,” he says dismissively.

“If you say so…”

Goro and Akira don’t have time to finish their conversation as they head up the stairs to Crossroads together. Goro had never been here before--obviously, what kind of high schooler would have come here?--but the rest of the friends seemed very excited and began greeting the barmaid by name.

“Good evening, Lala-chan,” Yusuke says with a slight bow as he flashes her an affectionate smile.

“Oh, Yusuke! It has been an age! Sit down darling, I’ll get your drink started for you!” Lala-chan says, fussing over her familiar patrons. “Oh sweetie!” she addresses Akira, “what’s the occasion this time? You don’t often bring me so many of your lovely acquaintances,” she croons, pouring a gin and tonic for Kitagawa without needing to ask for his order. They must get along.

“This is an old friend of mine, Goro Akechi. It’s his birthday tonight,” Akira says, grinning.

“Is that so! Well now, first drink is on the house, darling,” she says, addressing Goro directly now.

“That’s very kind, thank you…” he trails off, unsure how to address her.

“Lala. Lala-chan,” she says, introducing herself.

“Yes, thank you Lala-chan. It seems my friends are quite fond of your bar, so I’m looking forward to celebrating with you all,” he says politely.

“Well how sweet. I wish all of your friends were as polite as this one, darling,” she says teasingly to Akira, giving him a wink. Akira laughs as he pulls out a seat at the bar.

“Sit!” he instructs Goro with a smile.

The mood is high the entire evening, and Goro is pleasantly surprised to be having a great time talking and catching up with the small group of friends. He doesn’t inquire as to where everyone else could be--likely they’re busy or out of town with their own business and personal lives--but he does grimace when he wonders if some people just wouldn’t be willing or able to forgive him, such as Haru Okumura. Likely, he would never be able to make it up to her. Catching himself on a negative train of thought, Goro shakes himself out of it and finishes his whisky, roughly returning the glass to the countertop.

The conversation grows louder and more hilarious with each drink, and Goro is truly lost in the happiness of the moment. Lala-chan has brought out some bar snacks and set out several cups of water in order to prevent the young crowd from getting too drunk, which is appreciated by everyone. Mishima and Sakura are racing to chug a glass of water the fastest, much to everyone’s enjoyment, when Goro feels a hand on the small of his back. His back tenses as he looks to his side at Akira.

“Follow me,” he says as he lets his hand fall from Goro’s back and grabs his hand. Goro is pulled through the bar and down the stairs by Akira. As they emerge to the streets of Shinjuku, their hands remain clasped for just a moment too long to ignore before their hands each return to their sides. Neither one mentions it.

“Are you taking me to the Velvet Room?” Goro says, trying to put distance between the present moment and the previous moment of hand holding.

“Yes,” he confirms.

They walk the two blocks back to the blue door at a brisk pace, and as they approach, the little girl gives them a nod and steps to the side, allowing them entrance.

Goro feels like he’s falling and being pulled through reality. The sensation is unsettling and disorienting, but it’s over nearly as soon as it’s begun and now he’s standing alone in a jail cell as Joker, Igor, and the girl watch him from the other side of the bars.

“Hello, inmate. I am Lavenza. I am here to help you on your path to rehabilitation,” she says airily.

“My what?” Goro asks. Joker snorts.

“You must break free from the bonds that have been placed upon you by others. And you must break free from the bonds placed upon you by yourself. Finally, you are on the path to rehabilitation, and we are here to help.”

Igor shifts in his desk, looking thoroughly entertained by his guest. “As Lavenza said, we are now here to help you. You have demonstrated within your soul that you are now receptive to help and guidance. Because your heart desires it, we may finally present ourselves to you in full,” Igor says. He’s vague, perhaps purposefully so, and Goro is struggling to keep up despite his wit.

“Joker, perhaps you would like to explain?” Lavenza suggests.

Joker smirks at Goro from across the room, and Goro is frustrated at how attractive he finds him even in such an absurd and confusing situation.

“Essentially, Goro, you need to face your inner demons, build lasting relationships, and weave your own fate. Those two can help you. They will help you navigate your friendships with other people in the world, as well as help you hone your wildcard ability. With any luck, Crow will be standing on the other side of those bars in no time,” Joker explains. “Shall we demonstrate?” he asks Lavenza.

“What a marvelous idea,” Igor agrees.

“Very well then. Let us begin the execution,” Lavenza says evenly.

Joker laughs at Goro’s fear stricken face. “I was terrified too, at first. Don’t worry, we don’t mean we’re going to execute you,” he says reassuringly.

“Very well then,” Goro replies, nervous.

“We will fuse together your two personas, Robin Hood and Loki, revealing a third power which you will be able to summon from the sea of your soul,” she states matter of factly.

The entire execution process is surreal and sickening. Seeing Loki and Robin Hood without having willingly summoned them himself was also unsettling to Goro, who had not seen nor used a persona since he had gone berserk in the engine room. Sensing his discomfort, Joker moves to stand besides Goro, silently extending his hand through the bars as an offer. Goro takes hold of it, grateful for the support in this admittedly terrifying situation.

As the guillotines fall, the souls of Loki and Robin Hood rush together in a burst of light, forcing Goro to squint as he’s temporarily blinded. When the light finally dissipates, a new persona is standing there, ready to pledge its allegiance.

“This is Cu Chulainn, his power is now your own,” Lavenza states. And like that, Cu Chulainn disappears into thin air.

“How many times have you witnessed this, Akira? You seem so calm, as if you’re quite used to it.”

“Hundreds of times,” Joker says with a sigh.

“Will that be all?” Lavenza asks, addressing the two of them at once.

“That will be enough for tonight, yes. Thank you again, Lavenza, Igor,” he nods.

“It is our pleasure,” she says.

Again, the unpleasant sensation of being warped from one plane of consciousness to the next takes hold of Goro before he and Akira find themselves back on the neon-lit streets of Shinjuku.

“That was quite the experience,” Goro says with a weak laugh.

“You can say that again. Imagine doing that dozens of times a day as a 17-year-old,” Akira jokes.

“And they say I’m the fucked up one,” he teases with smile.

Akira lets out a loud laugh and flings his arm around Goro’s shoulders. “Enough drama for one evening. Shall we get back to your birthday celebration? They’ve probably noticed we’ve left by now. We can get more drinks, if you’d like.”

Goro leans into him and puts his own arm around Akira’s waist. The Velvet Room had been a lot to take in, and it certainly was a sobering experience. But having Akira by his side the entire time was such a relief and Goro finds himself caving into those tender feelings of want and affection. “I’d love to.” 

And so he sets off, arm in arm with Akira, bringing an end to his birthday evening with a genuine sense of togetherness and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goro Akechi & I have the same birthday! What a blessing. I obviously had to include our birthday in this chapter :)
> 
> Edit: user theholylight brought up a great question in the comments about why I chose Cu Chulainn. I'll post my reply here as an explanation!:  
> As for Cu Chulainn, I chose him as a generic fusion, not an ultimate persona. Robin Hood (justice) + Loki (fool) = Star arcana persona of roughly the same level aka Cu Chulainn!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my excuses for not updating in 10 days include a house guest & a family emergency, but things are finally stabilizing!!

_“So, see you tomorrow then?”_ Goro texts with a huge grin as he rolls over in bed.

_Akira Kurusu is typing_

_“Wouldn’t miss it.”_

A delighted sigh escapes his chest as he puts down his phone beside the futon. Lately Goro and Akira have gotten into the habit of texting before bed on the days when they didn’t see each other, and sometimes, even on the days when they did. His primary justification was that messaging Akira kept the nightmares away, and he tried not to dwell on his other reasons for craving his attention. It didn’t really matter what they talked about. Sometimes Akira would get cocky and tease him, sometimes he would say genuinely kind things or listen to Goro vent about his new job, and other times they would just exchange memes for a half hour. Goro didn’t particularly understand the last bit, but Akira had insisted on trying to expose him to internet culture “like a normal young adult”, and sometimes Akira would even send posts as a group chat between them and Futaba. Whenever that happened, Futaba would reply with even more bizarre posts and references that left Goro completely in the dark.

Some weeks had passed since his birthday and his time in the Velvet Room with Akira, and Goro’s life was progressing relatively smoothly. He worked Monday through Thursday under the Private Investigator Kaori Tamaki, and spent most of his evenings and weekends cycling, reading, or hanging out with some combination of Akira, Mishima, Ryuji, and Futaba. In fact, he had spent enough time with Futaba that she began insisting that he stop calling her Sakura and call her something less formal. Slowly but surely, Goro was easing into his new friendships, one person at a time. It took a lot of trust and effort, but he was finally letting down his facade among close friends and acquaintances. Kitagawa made the occasional appearance as well, but he was far too busy meeting submission deadlines as of late, so he still for the most part remained an enigma. Overall, Goro felt stable in his rebuilt friendships and new routine since he had landed on his feet in Tokyo.

Tonight, Goro was too excited to fall asleep quickly. His boss, Tamaki, was away on vacation for the next week and had told Goro to take time off as well even though he had only begun work very recently. This was likely because he was still too new to be trusted to take on new cases on his own. He remembered telling Akira and Ryuji about his time off, seated across the two at their kitchen table. At that time, Akira and Ryuji exchanged devious glances and a nod, immediately raising Goro’s suspicions. Two days later he received a text from Akira inviting him to spend a week at Yakushima with some of the other persona users that he had been mentioning in passing. Goro nervously accepted, but felt reassured that he would be meeting people with whom he did not have a previous reputation. Perhaps he would feel more at ease if he could meet another wildcard too. Tomorrow Akira would be picking him up from his apartment early in the morning, driving to the airport, and flying to Kagoshima prefecture, where they were arranged to be picked up by someone named Mitsuru Kirijo.  
\---

After a dreamless sleep, Goro eats a small breakfast and adds his phone charger, wallet, and a novel to his overnight bag. He’s ready nearly 15 minutes before Akira said he would be arriving, but he’s too antsy to do much else but play with his phone while he awaits Akira’s text. Those final moments pass agonizingly slowly before a message arrives.

_”We’re downstairs!”_

Goro sends a quick reply as he gathers his bag and heads for the door, locking it behind him and nearly jumping down the stairs in his excitement. Akira and Takamaki are parked just outside the front door to the apartment complex in a beautiful white Nissan Coupe. It must be Takamaki’s--there was no way Akira could afford it with a legal assistant salary. As he walks towards the car, Akira steps out of the passenger side door to pull the front seat forward and allow Goro to step inside. He holds the door open for him and casually puts his hand on the small of Goro’s back as Goro ducks into the car.

“Hey, Akechi! So nice to see you again after all this time!” Takamaki greets cheerfully as Goro settles into the seat and buckles himself in. She’s matured well, even more attractive than her magazine photos. Her face has lost the last of its baby fat that she’d had during high school, and now she looks rather beautiful and dignified with her long, straight hair and bangs.

“Indeed. I’m happy to see you as well, Takamaki. I intend to be a better acquaintance to you this time around,” he replies with a chuckle.

“Yeah, you better!” she says jokingly, though Goro knows that beneath the joke lies truth. If Goro ever betrayed any of her friends again, Takamaki would surely make him pay.

“Is this your car, Takamaki? It’s incredible,” he says as he looks around the interior and rubs a hand along the black leather seat.

“Yep! Runs a lot smoother than the Morgana van. Remember that?”

“It’s a nightmare I will not soon forget,” Goro says glumly, earning him a loud laugh from Akira.

Conversation continues surprisingly easily between the three passengers as they make the early morning drive to the airport. Akira explains that Ryuji, Futaba, and Kitagawa were unable to take time off from their responsibilities to join them on the trip, which doesn’t upset Goro too much. No issues arise as they park, check in, clear security, and shuffle to their departure gate, and before they know it, they’re in the air on the quick flight to Kagoshima. Goro anxiously envisions what the other persona users will be like, look like, act like, but due to his lack of sleep from the night before, he finds himself drifting off after just a half hour on the plane.

\---  
_Goro is sunbathing with Akira and his new friends. Two of the girls are applying sunscreen to each other, and a small group is heading back to the blankets from the water. No one else is around, so they’re at liberty to be themselves. One of them summons a persona and blasts the sunbathers with a low-level Bufu skill to cool them off, and the sensation is immediately refreshing. Akira is beside him and gently grabs his hand._

_“Why don’t you try summoning one? You haven’t tried since…back then, right?” He gives an encouraging squeeze and Goro nods his head silently in agreement._

_“Loki.”_

_Loki emerges and turns to face Goro directly. Goro immediately feels panic coursing through his veins, and his stomach lurches. Slowly and methodically, Loki raises his red sword. In the blink of an eye, Loki is slashing wildly at the other persona users, killing each of Goro’s friends in rapid succession. Goro is powerless and frozen in fear as he looks around at the carnage. Loki turns back to face him, and--_

\---

Goro’s head lurches forward and he gasps in horror, startling Akira. He’s panting and feels covered in a cold sweat. With wide eyes, he begins to take in his surroundings. He’s still on the plane. Akira is next to him in the middle seat. Takamaki is snoozing peacefully in the aisle seat with a mask over her face. 

“Goro, what’s wrong? What did you dream?” Akira asks in concern, reaching immediately to rub Goro’s back soothingly.

He takes a few deep breaths before answering.

“We are now beginning our descent. Please fold your tray tables and return your seats to the upright position. Remained seated with your seatbelts fastened until we arrive at the gate. Thank you.”

“Tell you later,” he chokes out as he leans forward to grab the small water bottle from the seat pocket. 

Akira doesn’t press him for more details, and he removes his hand from Goro’s back as he moves to adjust his own seat and tray table. Once he’s situated, he places his hand on Goro’s thigh, just above the knee, and gives him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The touch is almost immediately calming, and the terror pulsing through Goro’s veins is slowly replaced by affection and gratitude and longing. He doesn’t know what to do with his own hands, and after a moment he takes Akira’s hand in his own, cupping his palm. He keeps his head facing the back of the seat in front of him as he feels Akira turn to look directly at him. Akira doesn’t say anything but begins to move his hand away, causing Goro to panic briefly before he realizes that Akira isn’t pulling away, but is instead shifting their hands so that he can lace his fingers with Goro’s. His heart lurches and his pulse quickens even more. Their hands stay intertwined for the remainder of the flight and Goro resents the plane for landing as they’re forced to let go and exit the aircraft.

\---

The three wait to be picked up at the carpool lot outside of the airport. Goro is still fatigued from his nightmare and doesn’t bother paying much attention to his surroundings, leaving the task of locating the other persona users and their ride to Akira and Takamaki.

Goro is shaken from his thoughts by the arrival of four more young adults who appear to be his age or slightly older. There are two men and two women, and one of the women is wearing large sunglasses and has the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up tight. Takamaki embraces the other girls and immediately they begin to chatter excitedly, wasting no time catching up. Akira shakes hands with the two guys, and greets the other girls with his charming smile.

“I’d like you to meet the newest addition to our group,” Akira begins, gesturing towards Goro. “This is Goro Akechi. He’s another wildcard, but he’s still only able to wield a handful of high level personas”.

“Ah, no need to make me sound more special than I am,” Goro says in embarrassment, waving away the compliment. “I’m pleased to meet you all,” he says with a bow.

“Goro, this is Souji Seta, another wildcard that I had mentioned. And here are his friends, Yukiko Amagi, Kanji Tatsumi, and Rise Kujikawa,” he says, indicating each person as he speaks their names. Everyone bows and greets Goro politely.

“I hope we’ll be fast friends, Akechi!” says Amagi.

“Nice to meet you,” Tatsumi says shyly.

“It’s so exciting to have a fresh face in our group!” says an excited Kujikawa behind her airport disguise.

“Another wildcard to haze!” Seta jokes, earning him a playful punch in the arm from Takamaki.

“So we’re just waiting for one more then, right?” Akira cuts in.

“That’s right,” Amagi responds, “we’re just waiting for Akihiko now. I think Mitsuru is already on the property with Makoto and Aigis”.

Goro was beginning to get lost trying to remember all the names, but just as Amagi had listed off the final members of the group, a handsome man with a broad chest and shoulders approaches them.

“Hey man!” Tatsumi calls, earning him a slap on the back from the man who must be Akihiko.

“You’re all here! It’s great to see you all again,” he says, beaming at each of them and resting his gaze on Goro. “I’m Akihiko Sanada. You must be Akechi. This guy has told me a lot about you,” he says.

“Is that so?” Goro glances at Akira who’s face is slightly pink, but otherwise emotionless. “Only good things, I hope,” he chuckles.

The moment in broken by the arrival of a black van which is arranged to drive them from the airport to the shipyard, where they will then take a boat to the island. They all crowd into the van and continue to joke and catch up with each other. A lot of the conversation goes over Goro’s head, but he doesn’t mind listening and taking in the details. He prefers it that way. For the last legs of the journey, everyone does try their best to include Goro when they can, and he finds himself still giving his vague yet charming TV personality answers to some of the more personal questions about himself. Every once and awhile his answers elicit a smirk from Akira, but Akira graciously doesn’t tease him for his answer. The travel time seems to pass so quickly with the wonderful company, and before he knows it, Goro is standing on the deck of the boat watching the island get bigger and bigger on the horizon as the ship starts to pull up to shore.

Goro breaks away from the crowd and leaves to lean on the railing to take in the scenery in solitude. The ocean breeze is mercilessly blowing the loose ends of his hair around his face, with only the longest strands being held together by his ponytail. The salty air is soothing and he finally feels at ease after the nightmare and after anxiously meeting so many new people. A few moments pass like this before his trance-like state is broken by the arrival of Tatsumi, who’s come to stand beside him.

“‘S my first time coming to this island too,” he says with a hint of tension in his voice.

“Are you excited?” Goro asks.

“Yeah, suppose I am. We’re with a good crew at least.”

“Mmm,” Goro hums in agreement.

“How about you? You excited? You seem a little nervous to me,” Tatsumi says carefully, stealing a sideways glance at Goro to gauge his expression. Goro lets out a laugh.

“How very perceptive of you. I’m just nervous about meeting so many new people is all,” he admits.

“Don’t worry about it, man. You don’t seem like a bad dude and everyone here’s got hearts of gold,” he says reassuringly.

“It does seem that way, yes. I hope we can become good friends.”

“We will, just be yourself. Learned that from my team. If you can be yourself, then those who care about you will accept you for who you are,” Tatsumi says confidently.

“Myself, huh…” Goro trails off, focusing his gaze on the quickly approaching dock. “Thank you for your advice, Tatsumi. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. And you can just call me Kanji. Everyone does ‘round here,” he adds.

“Alright, Kanji. You may call me Goro or Akechi, whichever is preferable.”

The two young men exchange a smile and pull away from the railing, heading back to the group together to grab their belongings and disembark the boat. As they step onto the land, Goro notices three young women waiting for them at the shore by the path leading up to a large beach mansion. One of the women is unmistakably Makoto Niijima, but Goro doesn’t recognize the others. As they get closer, he realizes that one of the women appears to be the robot that Akira had mentioned, Aigis. 

Finally they approach, and a posh young woman with long reddish hair steps forward to greet them.

“Welcome, everyone. I’m glad you arrived safely. How was your journey?” she says.

“It was awesome! I love taking the boat over here!” Takamaki replies, very chipper.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she begins, but is interrupted by the robot.

“There is a new member among us,” she states matter of factly. All eyes turn to Goro. He gulps but he is soon saved by the grace of the other two women.

“Mitsuru, this would be Goro Akechi. You may remember him from television a half decade ago,” Niijima says. She doesn’t address Goro directly, and he fears she may still harbor resentments.

“Ah yes, Akechi. I’m Mitsuru Kirijo, and I’ll be your hostess for the week. I’m glad you could make the trip out. Kurusu has assured us that you’d be a lovely guest and an asset to our group,” Kirijo says diplomatically.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Kirijo,” Goro says, bowing. He turns to face Aigis to introduce himself. “I am Akechi, pleased to meet you.”

“I am Aigis. If you hurt my friends, you will be eliminated.”

Seta laughs and Sanada sighs and shakes his head. 

“Be gentle with him, Aigis,” says Akira. Goro glares at him.

“Well enough small talk, I’m sure you’re all tired from your trip. I’ll show you to your rooms,” Kirijo says as she turns to lead them up the path towards the mansion.

The inside is spacious, well lit, and tastefully decorated. The entrance hall is made of marble, with blue and copper floors, stone pillars, and heavy wooden doors. A carpet runs down the center of the room, connecting the front entrance and the door to the rest of the home, and each door is flanked by beautiful ceramic vases.

Half of the group seems intimately familiar with the mansion, while others such as himself and Tatsumi, are trying to hide their awe as they make their way through rooms, up staircases, and down long hallways. 

“Kurusu, you remember the room you used during your last stay, yes? You’ll be staying in the same one, sharing with Akechi. I’m sorry for cramping you all in together. We only have six bedrooms, meaning some of you will have to pair off. Would you mind showing him the suite? Kanji and Souji will be sharing the room opposite of yours, and I’ll be taking Rise, Yukiko, Ann, and Makoto upstairs. My bedroom and Akihiko’s bedroom are also on this floor, if you need anything. Dinner will be in a few hours, so spend the rest of your afternoon as you please,” Mitsuru explains, leaving Goro and Akira alone in the hall as the others disappear towards their own rooms.

Goro’s stomach tightens and he chances a look at Akira. Akira shoots him a crooked smile and Goro clenches his jaw, wholly unprepared to be living in close quarters with the object of his desires.

“It’s a huge room, don’t worry,” he says over his shoulder as he turns the doorknob and pushes open the door, revealing an enormous guest suite.

There are glass doors opening out to a private balcony, and a huge king bed with emerald green bedding and a giant oak headboard. Opposite the bed is an elegant dresser, and the walls are decorated with various paintings, one of which is undeniably Kitagawa’s art style. Beside the balcony doors is a Victorian style sofa and arm chair with a small tea table. Akira walks across the room and drops his bag onto the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed while Akechi is still standing in the doorway, wide eyed.

“You have not lived until you’ve tried this bed,” Akira says, stirring him from his state of shock. He jumps in the air and flops onto the bed, making Goro chuckle as he walks over and drops his own bag on the trunk. Akira rolls onto his side, supporting his head in one hand and patting the bed with the other. Goro just stands there and raises his eyebrows at Akira as if to convey ‘you must be joking’, but Akira just pats the bed again, adding in a wink. Goro rolls his eyes but laughs despite himself as he launches his body into the air and flops onto the bed right beside him. The two giggle on impact, and as he settles, Goro becomes aware at how comfortable the mattress truly is.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles into the comforter.

“I know, right?” Akira says beside him.

Goro rolls onto his back and turns his face to the side to look at Akira. The reality then crashes down on him. He’d be sharing this bed with Akira for the next five nights and there was nothing he could do to change that. This could not possibly end well for either of them. How would he get any sleep knowing that Akira is just inches from him in the same bed? And what if something...dare he think it…happen between them? All of these thoughts are racing through Goro’s mind as his heart throbs while their gazes remained locked. Akira’s big smile slowly relaxes into a concentrated frown, and Goro wonders fleetingly if Akira could be reading his mind.

“So, what happened on the plane?” he asks, evidently still concerned about the scene he’d caused on the flight.

Goro takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh. “I had a nightmare again. It’s nothing,” he says dismissively.

“What about?” he presses.

“I’m afraid to tell you, honestly.” Akira knits his eyebrows. “I dreamed we were all on the beach, then Loki appeared and murdered you all,” he says quickly, staring at the ceiling, too afraid to look at Akira.

“Do you have that dream a lot?” Akira asks, seemingly unphased that he and his friends were dream-murdered by the same persona which Goro had used in his darkest hour.

“No. I haven’t had any nightmares about Loki since you and I have grown close...Spending time with your or texting you before bed usually helps,” he admits quietly as his cheeks turn pink with embarrassment.

“Aww, you _do_ like being around me,” Akira croons, playfully jabbing Goro in the side with a barrage of poking fingers. Goro’s body immediately spasms and he yelps. “I’ve found a weakness!”

“No!” he pleads through bursts of laughter as he tries to wiggle free. They’re both giggling now. He can barely get the words out of his mouth as he shakes from laughter, “s-stop!” 

“Make me,” Akira threatens through his own giggles as he relentlessly tickles and wrestles with Goro on the bed. The taunt _does_ something to Goro, and his head is spinning from the laughter and play and fresh wave of desire. He grabs Akira by the wrists and quickly flips him onto his back, resting his bodyweight on top of the man below him. Akira looks up at him with a devious, playful expression as if he’s satisfied at the situation he’s found himself in.

“Oh, someone is feisty,” he teases, rather audacious for someone pinned and defenseless.

“Shut up you arrogant bastard,” Goro hisses, tortured by the sexual tension that Akira is seemingly encouraging. His pulse beats rapidly from the play fighting and longing, and he can feel Akira’s pulse throbbing in his wrists.

“Wow, you’re aggressive when you play. Lucky for you, that’s what I like,” Akira croons while maintaining direct eye contact and struggling against the physical restraints. Goro feels himself getting hard and he’s completely torn between acting on his impulses at the risk of fucking up the rest of the trip, or jumping up from the bed and letting this moment slip into the past. He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes, unable to look at Akira’s smug face any longer. Akira shifts his body underneath Goro, causing friction which results in a surprised squeak from Goro. He needs air and time to think, so he rolls off Akira and lies on his back beside him, keeping his eyes screwed shut. Suddenly, Akira is speaking in a low voice very close to his ear, sending chills down Goro’s spine.

“At least if we’re sharing a room you won’t have any nightmares this week,” he says reassuringly, though his voice still sounds a bit insidious.

“Forget the nightmares, I’ll be lucky to sleep at all at this rate,” he whines. Akira laughs and Goro finally opens his eyes to turn his head and look at him once more. He’s smiling beside him and he looks happy and comfortable. Akira’s hand sneaks its way onto Goro’s chest, and he absentmindedly rubs his thumb into the fabric of Goro’s t-shirt. It’s soothing and affectionate, and Goro starts to feel more at ease.

“We still have two hours before dinner, and I can say without a doubt in my mind that we will be up late playing all sorts of debauch games if Yukiko gets her way. Do you want to nap until then?” Akira suggests, his voice more gentle now.

“Resting would be nice, yes,” Goro concedes. He rolls onto his side to face away from Akira, willing the other boy’s existence to disappear so that he can truly relax. This has the opposite effect, as Akira takes this as an invitation to pull Goro close, pressing his body directly into Goro’s back. They fit together perfectly. Goro’s heart skips a beat and his skin tingles.

“Is this okay?” Akira asks. “I forgot my teddy bear.”

“You have got to be kidding me, Akira.”

“I am.” But he doesn’t pull away. Goro tries to relax into the embrace, but the cuddling and intimacy raises old insecurities.

“You’re not doing this to trick me are you?” he asks self-consciously, voice trailing off into silence.

“What?”

“We’re friends, right?” Goro asks, feeling increasingly afraid.

“Of course, Goro,” Akira replies, sounding concerned and serious from behind him.

“And...this?” Goro tries moving his hand so that is rests over Akira’s in the spooning position, hoping Akira catches the meaning. There is a thoughtful pause before Akira responds.

“You mean...the touching, flirting, teasing type stuff?” he supplies.

“Yes…” he breathes out, anxious for the reply.

“I’m still trying to figure out what I feel, Goro. But I wouldn’t do anything that I don’t want to.”

“Me too. The figuring out my feelings part, I mean,” Goro admits, grateful Akira can’t see him blush.

“That’s okay,” Akira says happily, giving Goro a reassuring squeeze. “We can figure it out together.”

“Mmm,” Goro hums in agreement, “together.”

\---

After awakening from their nap and freshening up, Goro and Akira join the rest of the group on a large outdoor patio for dinner. Kirijo’s staff have prepared a huge summer barbeque style feast of grilled fish, burgers, fresh vegetables, watermelon, fruit parfaits, and pitchers of sangria. The spread looks incredible, and Goro cannot remember the last time he’s had such an extravagant meal. Everyone takes their seats around the large, glass-top patio dining table. Goro sits on the side of the table which overlooks the beach. The remaining sunlight dances over the water, creating beautiful reflections of light across the ocean. The cool, salty breeze is refreshing and pleasant. Akira takes the seat across him. Kirijo and Sanada sit at the heads of the table. On Akira’s side of the table sits Aigis, Takamaki, Akira, Amagi, and Kanji, with Aigis beside Kirijo and Kanji nearest to Sanada. Those seated on Goro’s side include Makoto on Kirijo’s other side, Seta to Goro’s left, and Kujikawa to Goro’s right, between him and Sanada. All eleven people are chattering excitedly about the meal when Kirijo chimes a utensil on the crystal wine glass. The conversations die down as everyone turns to look at her.

“I’m looking forward to hosting you all for another wonderful week here at Yakushima. It is always a delight to gather you all for pleasure rather than strictly for business. I’d also like to thank Akechi for joining us. You will be an asset to our team and hopefully, a lifelong friend to us all.” She raises her glass in a toast. “To our shared bonds and continued prosperity and happiness in this life.” Everyone raises their glass and drinks. The sangria is delicious and the mood is high. Goro looks forward to the rest of the evening as everyone starts reaching for the food at once.

Conversation continues loudly throughout the meal. At one point, Kujikawa starts grilling Kanji about his love life from across the table. He’s bright pink and sputtering out evasive answers. This line of questioning is Goro’s current worst nightmare, so he turns his attention to his left, hoping to engage himself in conversation with Seta.

“So, Seta, I understand you’re another wildcard persona user?” he says, opening up the conversation.

He nods while chewing his food, swallowing before he replies, “Yeah, I am. You too, right? That must have been really helpful having two wildcards on the same team.”

“Well...it wasn’t quite like that at the time. We could hardly have been considered teammates,” Goro says carefully, regretting having chosen this topic of conversation.

Seta pauses, considering this. “I suppose you’re teammates now though,” he responds, just as careful with his wording.

“Yes,” Goro says, brightening up a bit, “indeed we are.”

“Good. Teammates are what will get you through the hardest parts of life. They’ll help you face life’s worst horrors, and even help you face yourself.”

Goro hums in agreement, still trying to get used to the bonds of relationships thing.

“So if you weren’t necessarily on a team back then, were you able to learn to wield only a limited amount of personas?” Seta asks.

“Ah, a very astute question. Until recently I was only able to wield two personas--one of the Justice arcana and another of the Fool arcana. On my birthday, Akira showed me to the door of the Velvet Room in the waking world and taught me how to fuse new personae. I was able to create Cu Chulainn with the two aforementioned personae, however, I’ve yet to summon him,” he explains.

“Wait. Akira took you to the Velvet Room...for your birthday?” Seta asks, incredulous. Before Goro can respond, he interrupts Akira’s conversation across the table. “Yo, Akira. You couldn’t think of anything better to do for this guy’s birthday than to take him to hang out with Igor? What a charmer,” he adds sarcastically.

Akira just smiles and shrugs as he chews his food, entertained rather than ashamed. Seta laughs. The cross-table exchange has drawn attention from the others as well. From down the table, Aigis tries to get Goro’s attention.

“You’ve been to the Velvet Room as well? Who is your attendant?” she asks, her tone very serious.

“Same as mine, Aigis. He meets with Lavenza,” Akira replies.

“I see,” is Aigis’ only response.

“Who does your wildcard see?” Goro asks her. At this question, the mood becomes tense. Kirijo and Sanada look momentarily pained, as does Aigis, much to his surprise.

“Their wildcard passed away,” Kujikawa explains gently.

Sanada clenches his fists on the table. “She sacrificed herself to save us. Minako...she...she’s the reason we can all be here.” The table goes silent at Sanada’s words. Even Akira is looking down at his food, evidently upset.

Aigis is the only one to break the silence. “Akihiko, I will find her. I am a robot, and I cannot die, so I will search for her until my life is exhausted, even if it takes an eternity,” she says with determination.

“We know, Aigis. Thank you,” Kirijo says, sounding tired.

Goro feels guilty for having reopened old wounds, and desperately wishes for conversation to return to normal. Thankfully, Niijima saves the mood.

“Wherever our fallen teammates are, they’d want us to enjoy this moment. And so too would all of our friends who couldn’t make it tonight. Even though we’ve faced death, we’ve also seen new life. Haru and Junpei’s healthy baby girl is a testament to that, so let us focus on enjoying tonight and moving towards a bright future,” she says charismatically.

“Well said, Makoto,” Kirijo says, already sounding lighter.

“And on that note--” Amagi chimes in.

“Oh no,” groans Kanji.

“Oh yes, Kanji. Oh yes. It’s time to get a fresh round of drinks and start playing the Kings Game!” Her voice is excited and bright, but her expression is terrifyingly evil.

“Yes! King’s Game!” cheers Kujikawa.

“I’m sorry, what’s King’s Game?” Goro asks warily.

“Something I am too damn old for, goodnight,” Sanada says, excusing himself from the table with a laugh.

“I’ll also be excusing myself,” Kirijo says, smiling as she stands up.

“Boo, you’re no fun Mitsuru,” Amagi whines.

“I’ll let that slide this time, Yukiko,” Kirijo warns teasingly. As she walks away from the table, the staff come outside and begin removing the remaining food and dishes. They finish just in time for the sun to set behind the horizon, leaving the remaining guests to drink and chat and play under twinkle lights and lanterns hung about the patio.

“I guess I’ll explain the rules then,” Kanji offers. “Basically, we each draw a chopstick. Each one has a number on it, and one has a red dot. The person with the red dot is the King--”

“Or Queen!” Takamaki interrupts.

“--or Queen, and that person selects two numbers who must perform a command,” he finishes.

“I think I understand,” Goro replies.

“Great!” Amagi cheers, passing out the chopsticks she had just hastily written on with a marker from her purse.

“Oh thank god,” Seta says with a sigh of relief, showing off his chopstick which bears a red dot. Goro’s own chopstick is the number six.

Everyone turns to face Seta, anticipating the first command.

“Two and three must trade shirts,” he says after a moment’s thought. Takamaki and Kujikawa both raise their chopsticks and smile at each other in relief.

“We share clothes all the time! That’s nothing!” Kujikawa says. The two women turn around and remove their tops, tossing the shirts across the table to each other and dressing once more. It’s as if nothing changed, and the change in outfits suits both of the young women quite nicely. Everyone returns their chopsticks to the center and draws new ones. Goro is excited to see the red dot on his and he beams.

“Okay then! I would like to see numbers one and seven arm wrestle,” he suggests, eagerly scanning the table of friends to see who would raise their chopsticks. Aigis raises her arm, as does Seta.

“Shit,” Seta says.

“Please do your best,” says Aigis.

The two position themselves properly across the table and grasp each other's’ hands. Before the match even begins, Amagi is cackling. Goro almost feels bad.

“On your marks--” Akira says.

“--this isn’t a foot race…” Takamaki counters.

“Ahem. I am the King here,” Goro corrects, receiving a snicker from Niijima. “On my count. Three, two...one!”

The final syllable is barely out of Goro’s mouth when Aigis forcefully slams Seta’s hand into the table, causing him to wince in pain.

“I have won,” she states.

“I am so glad I left my phone out here,” Sanada laughs, evidently having returned and seen the entire moment. “I’m headed back in for real this time. Don’t break any bones, Aigis,” he calls as he heads back inside. Everyone is giggling as they once again exchanges their old chopsticks for new ones.

This time, Goro has a four.

Akira almost immediately gives a command, not even bothering to announce he’s drawn the King’s chopstick.

“Number four, give me a kiss”.

“Why are you like this,” Niijima groans.

“You do this every time you get the King chopstick,” Takamaki whines.

“And every time, I get a kiss. So who’s the real winner here?” Akira counters.

“No arguing with that,” Kanji says, respecting Akira’s boldness.

“So who is the poor sap this time?” Kujikawa asks, looking around.

“I resent that,” Akira retorts.

Everyone is looking around to find number four, and Goro nervously raises his hand. 

“I’ll kill you for this, Akira,” he says, unable to believe his misfortune.

“Oh no, not again,” Akira says lazily. Niijima glares at them both. The comment raises a few puzzled looks from some of the other guests, but no one presses the matter, likely writing the comment off as one of Akira’s bizarre jokes.

“Pucker up, Akechi,” Seta says, egging him on.

Goro swallows his pride and stands up, making his way around the table to Akira. He feels everyone’s eyes on him as he walks towards him. As he comes face to face with Akira, it seems that Akira feels he’s gotten more than he’s bargained for, but knowing him, there is no way he’d back down, especially not if he gives this command every game. Goro gulps and clenches his fists by his sides to steady his shaking hands. They make eye contact and Goro nods. He brings his face closer to Akira and pauses just before reaching his lips. His neck prickles, and at the last second he changes course and gives Akira a peck on the cheek instead. He pulls away, and Akira’s cheeks are as pink as Goro’s feel. He looks away and quickly walks back to his seat, the sounds of his surroundings are suddenly rushing back to him.

“Hey! No fair!” Kanji is complaining. “When I kissed you on the cheek two years ago, you said it didn’t count!”

“Times change, Kanji,” Akira says evenly, despite the blush still present on his face.

“Come on Akechi, don’t be such a chicken!” Amagi is jeering.

“Cut them some slack,” Takamaki says empathetically, understanding the dynamic much better than most others seated at the table..

“Anyways, return your chopsticks! Next round!” Kujikawa cheers.

“I want kisses too!” A drunk Amagi whines as they all draw new numbers. “Aww man, I’m not the Queen,” she complains. This is probably for the best. Goro checks his number. It’s number four again and he wonders if he’s cursed.

“I am this Queen this round,” Niijima announces.

“Fitting,” Akira jokes.

“All odd numbers finish your drinks. All even numbers touch the thigh of the person to your right until the next round,” she commands.

“Damn you, Makoto,” Amagi says dramatically as she downs her drink.

Goro looks apologetically at Kujikawa on his right, as Seta finishes his drink on his left. “I’m very sorry about this…” he says, hesitant to invade her personal space.

“Ah well, it can’t be helped,” she concedes, gesturing her open hand towards her left thigh. Cautiously, Goro places his hand as close to her knee as possible. “Aww, what a gentleman you are, Akechi,” she teases.

Several more rounds continue on like this before everyone is either too drunk or too tired to continue. The girls all leave in a pack together, and the guys follow close behind, making sure the women who are drunk make it up the stairs okay. Goro and Akira follow from the rear, waving goodnight to everyone as they enter their room.

They don’t say much as they take turns washing up and showering in the bathroom, each of them relatively sober as they were lucky enough to avoid the majority of drinking related commands. Akira goes first, and Goro showers second. He emerges from the bathroom--the most luxurious bathroom he’d ever had the privilege of using--after a quick shower, wearing a clean t-shirt and some boxers, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. Akira is standing by the dresser, putting something away and standing in his own similar sleepwear. Goro hangs the towel on the back of the bathroom door and turns to walk towards the bed at the same time as Akira, who stops him halfway.

“You owe me,” Akira says, his expression blank.

“I do not recall being indebted to you,” Goro replies, suspicious.

“No one gets to skip out on my King’s Game command,” he states, looking him square in the face.

Goro tries to fight off a blush and hold his ground. “That moment has passed, and you did indeed let me off the hook,” he points out.

“Only because things are complicated between us and I didn’t want our first kiss to be so public,” he explains, expression still unreadable.

“Our...first kiss? As in, you expect there to be more?” Goro asks, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

“Only one way to find out.”

Akira closes the last bit of space between them and hovers his face just inches from Goro’s, inviting him in while still allowing him one last chance to say no. But Goro doesn’t want to say no. Every part of his body feels like it’s on fire and he’s secretly wanted this for so long. He brings his hand up to Akira’s cheek and guides their mouths together. When their lips meet, Goro’s heart feels like it could pound out of his chest. It’s a chaste kiss, and he pulls away slowly, savoring the intensity of the moment but also wanting to gauge Akira’s reaction.

Akira immediately pulls Goro back in, more forceful, and returns his lips to Goro’s. They each part their mouths just slightly, slowly deepening the kiss one small movement at a time. Goro runs his fingers through Akira’s damp hair and pulls at the soft hairs near the nape of Akira’s neck. Akira gently moans, and pulls their bodies more tightly together, nearly throwing off their balance in the process. The kiss continues to grow deeper and Goro feels desire pool in his body as their tongues meet. The kiss is getting more handsy and aggressive, and Goro is the first to break away. Their faces are just inches apart, but their bodies are still pressed together, with their hands still gripping at hair and skin and fabric. They breathe heavily, catching their breath as they rest their foreheads against each other.

“God I hope there are more,” Goro breathes. Akira immediately grants this wish and gives him another peck on the lips.

“The odds are high,” he responds, rubbing a hand up Goro’s thin, muscular arm.

Slowly, they untangle their bodies, blissed out by the moment but awkward and unsure of how to proceed.

“I guess we should try and get some sleep them?” Goro suggests, unsure of how to cut the sexual tension.

“Yeah, we should,” Akira agrees. Akira walks around the bed to the far side and Goro heads the other way towards the door to turn off the light. He stumbles back to bed in the dark and finally flops onto the soft, firm mattress. Akira flings the comforter over the two of them and snuggles up close to him.

“I’m not surprised you’re a cuddler,” Goro teases.

“Good. Cuddling is the goddamn best,” Akira says defensively. Goro lets out a soft laugh and relaxes into Akira’s arms.

“Sweet dreams, Akira.”

“That’s my line. I should be the one wishing you to have sweet dreams.”

“Next time then,” Goro chuckles, growing very tired as all of the day’s travel and introductions and activities hit him at once.

“Mmm, yeah. ‘Night, Goro,” he mumbles with a sleepy voice, also spent.

“Goodnight.”

Goro is granted the gift of a dreamless sleep, and when he awakens the next morning, he finds his body tangled with Akira’s as the bright morning sun shines through the glass balcony doors. This vacation is off to a good start.


	8. Chapter 8

It’s his fourth morning at the the Kirijo estate when Goro jerks awake suddenly, eyes snapping open and breath hitched in his chest. The sudden movement causes Akira to stir. His arm pulls away from its resting place across Goro’s bare chest, and his body tenses as he makes a big, full body stretch.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Akira mumbles as his body settles back down from stretching.

Feeling more relaxed as he’s realized he’s awake and safe in bed, he follows Akira’s lead and decides to stretch his own body before he curls back up on his side to face the groggy man beside him.

“No, not quite. It wasn’t a nightmare, but it wasn’t a regular dream either. I spent quite a while in the Velvet Room actually,” Goro explains. “It was intense, but not scary. I think I just snapped awake suddenly when I finally left that place.”

“Mm yeah. Happened to me too sometimes,” Akira lazily replies, still sleepy and keeping his eyes closed as he listens. “So, what happened?” he asks, opening his eyes and squinting into the morning light..

“Well,” he begins, letting his mind wander back to what he had just experienced…

\---

_He awakes in the jail cell, less startled by his surroundings this time around. Curious, he walks himself to the bars of his cell and looks forward to Igor and Lavenza. As always, they appear to have been waiting for him._

”Welcome to the Velvet Room,” greets Igor from behind his desk.

“We have called you here tonight in order to disclose more details with regards to your mission,” Lavenza states calmly. She is smiling gently at Goro from across the room, giving him hope that the details contain good news.

“Is that so?”, he replies, loosely gripping the cell bars with his hands. Being in the Velvet Room is becoming a lot less tense and jarring for him.

“As previously discussed, you are currently imprisoned not only by those around you. You have also imprisoned yourself, “ Lavenza begins. “Because you have kept yourself from forming meaningful, trustworthy bonds with those around you, you became partly imprisoned by your reputation and your loneliness. This first happened in your teenage years when you faced a cruel fate and made terrible moral decisions.”

Goro feels a painful tightening in his chest at her words.

“But even more concerning is how you have come to imprison yourself in your adult life as well. You remain afraid of yourself and your power. You continue to fear the pain you could inflict upon those you’ve grown to hold dear in your heart.”

“So, what can I do?” Goro asks, his throat tight. A knowing smile spreads across Igor’s face, but he remains silent.

“Rather than tell you, how about I show you? Please, follow me if you will,” Lavenza replies, beginning to walk across the room, leaving Igor seated behind the desk.

“Follow you? I’m stuck in this cell,” Goro complains, feeling frustrated by the so far vague explanation.

“Actually, you should find that your cell door has been unlocked for some time now”.

Goro just blinks at Lavenza as she continues to walk. She seems to pass through the wall to the left of Goro’s cell--there must be a doorway or hallway besides his cell that he hasn’t been able to see from his vantage point. As she leaves Goro’s line of sight, Goro tries to shake off the shock and confusion he feels, finally focusing on the cell door. He tentatively pushes it open, and sure enough the bars swing to the side. He steps out and immediately looks to the left of his cell, seeing a hallway and some stairs. Lavenza is already halfway up the first set of blue stairs as he jogs to catch up to her.

“How? When?” He asks her when he reaches her side. She stops and turns to face him, continuing to smile her calm, gentle smile.

“You have begun to form bonds with those around you. This action has set you free from the imprisonment placed upon you in your teenage years. But only partially. You may be free from your cell, but you are still imprisoned by yourself. You must continue to build your relationships with those around you. Your confidants will be the key to your full freedom”, she explains.

“I believe I follow you so far. Are you saying that the relationships in my life will help me leave the velvet room freely?”

“Precisely. Though you do not have a ‘palace’ as your friends had called it, you as a wildcard persona user still must overcome internal obstacles in order to be truly free and well. As I said, your confidants are key, and I mean this quite literally.” At this, she pulls a silver key from her pocket and hands it to Goro. He takes it, and it seems to glow slightly as it sits weightlessly in his hand.

“What I have just given you is a key representing your relationship to me and the Velvet Room. Just as the personas you summon and fuse carry ‘arcana types’, so too do your relationships with those around you. I represent the Strength arcana, and although our bond has just formed, I am able to offer this as a symbol of our potential to grow together. To unlock new opportunities through our bond, so to speak”.

“Do other people I know hold similar keys?” Goro asks, looking up from the key and focusing on Lavenza once again.

“You catch on quick,” she says with pride. “Now that you have left your cell, you may roam these halls and meet representations of confidants you have begun bonding with. As you find these confidants, you may speak with them and request a similar key. As you collect these keys, they will fuse together, eventually forming a skeleton key to grant your long awaited release”.

Goro takes a deep breath. It’s a lot to process at once, but he feels confident that he will find more keys, especially if he can get help from Akira and the other persona users.

“How many keys must I collect to form the skeleton key?” He asks, already beginning to form plans in his mind on how to proceed.

Lavenza’s gentle smile turns slightly mischievous as she replies. “There is no minimum number of keys required. Your only requirement is that you must fuse your keys with the key belonging to The Fool”.

“Who is represented by the Fool arcana?” Goro presses.

“You will soon realize that you already have the answer to that question”.

\---

“And then I woke up”, he concludes. Akira had fully woken up as Goro recounted his dream-like visit to the Velvet Room.His face is scrunched in concentration.

“I think you should tell the rest of the persona users while we’re here. They may be able to help, and if you trust them with this, it may help you grow closer to everyone too,” Akira suggests.

Goro rolls onto his back and groans. “I’d probably have to tell them about my previous...role with the Phantom Thieves as well then,” he whines, hiding his face in his hands as he’s filled with anxiety.

He feels the weight on the bed shift as Akira climbs on top of him. Akira grabs Goro’s wrists and gently pries his hands off of his face, pushing his wrists into the pillow on both sides of his head.

“Goro, look at me,” he says with softly.

Pinned, Goro looks up at Akira. His chest is tight with longing and anxiety, but the dread is slowly leaving his body.

“I trust these people. And they trust me. We’re not just some group of friends, we’re also a group of persona users who have all faced some pretty uniquely terrible shit. They’ll be able to handle it, and if they know that I trust and care about you, then they won’t be hostile. You can tell them, if you want.” 

Akira bends closer and presses a kiss to Goro’s cheek. “Or you could choose not to tell them. The choice is yours.”

Goro takes a shaky breath, collecting his thoughts. Akira releases the grip on Goro’s wrists and runs his hands down Goro’s smooth, bare chest. His back arches ever so slightly from the touch, desire beginning to cloud his thoughts. 

“I’ll tell them,” he manages to reply. “I trust you.”

Akira smiles wide at that and runs his hands back up Goro’s chest as he reaches to cup Goro’s cheeks in his palms. He bends forward again, this time pressing a kiss to Goro’s lips. The kiss is quick, but Akira doesn’t pull away, leaving his face hovering just above Goro’s. Goro threads his fingers through Akira’s hair with one hand and places the other on Akira’s lower back, pulling him back in for another, longer kiss. Akira adjusts his body so that he is no longer bent over and straddling Goro, relaxing by laying his legs and body pressed close to Goro’s as the kiss intensifies. Akira’s body weight feels far too good, and Goro craves even more friction. He arches his hips into Akira’s and lets out a grown, roughly pulling their mouths apart as Akira presses hot kisses along his jawline and down his neck. Goro aches with desire as Akira nips at his neck with his teeth.

“Maybe we should continue this another time,” Goro manages to say between hitched breaths. 

“Oh?” Akira replies, rolling off Goro and laying beside him to give the other some space.

“As much as I’d like to continue this, there’s just so much going on that I’m still trying to wrap my head around. It’s all so overwhelming. And I obviously do want this,” he says gesturing towards his own half naked body and blushing a bit as he does so, “but not yet”.

Akira grabs Goro’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I understand,” he says soothingly.

Goro smiles back at him. “Thank you.” They stay there smiling at each other for a moment before Akira makes the first move to get out of bed.

“Let’s get ready for the beach today, okay? Usually we all leave straight from eating brunch and go right down to the water together,” Akira says cheerfully. Goro follows him out of bed feeling less nervous about the day ahead.

\---

The afternoon was winding down, with the hot summer sky slowly turning from bright blue to orange. The weather on the shore had been perfect, and every single person had spent the day together on the beach. Some people, like Mitsuru, Ann, and Rise, lounged in long canvas beach chairs. Others had brought their own individual towels, such as Makoto, Yukiko, Goro, and Akira. There were also several blankets thrown together around some umbrellas where Akihiko, Kanji, Seta, and Aigis were cooling off in the shade. Goro is sitting up on his own towel with his legs stretched out before him and his arms locked by his side, supporting his upper body weight. He takes a moment to look around at all his newfound friends and allies. It had only been a few days, but already each of them had insisted Goro be more relaxed around them and call them all by their first names. They argued that it felt weird for someone part of their persona users’ group to be such a stranger.

Their growing bonds reassured Goro about the pending conversation he knew would happen later that evening. His initial anxiety on the matter had mostly subsided since the morning thanks to Akira’s advice. 

Goro was stirred from his people-watching and others’ conversations were interrupted as Mitsuru gathered everyone’s attention.

“For tonight, how would you all like to have a bonfire and eat food on the beach?” Mitsuru asks the group. Kanji’s face lights up and some cheers are heard from Ann and Yukiko. “Wonderful, I’ll have the staff bring down food and blankets,” she announces, pleased with the group’s excitement.

Aigis steps forward. “Since you all will become cold as the sun continues to set, I can retrieve additional clothing,” she states.

“That would be great, thanks Aigis,” Akihiko responds on behalf of the crowd. 

“Okay, I will quickly return from your rooms,” She declares as she takes off towards the estate.

“Am I the only one who is terrified by Aigis searching each of our rooms?” Souji asks with a laugh.

“Oh god,” Yukiko groans.

“What, do you all have something to hide in your bags?” Rise teases.

The upbeat banter continues for the rest of the evening as the group shares food and soju and stories for hours on end. The heat of the fire is perfectly warm and Goro feels his cheeks are hot from the flame and the alcohol. He leans up close to Akira, who is seated in the sand to his right. Goro smiles and looks into the fire as he leans his head on Akira’s shoulder.

“Enjoying yourself?” Akira asks.

“Very much so, yes.”

“Good.” Goro can practically hear Akira’s smile in the reply.

“Akira...will you help me bring it up?” he asks quietly, feeling his stomach lurch a bit from the nerves.

“No problem,” he privately responds before addressing the group. “Hey everyone!” Akira raises his voice, catching everyone’s attention. “Goro and I have something to talk to you about.”

“Oh finally,” Ann sighs dramatically. “You’re both so obvious, you know”. Kanji chokes back a laugh.

“Oh my god,” Goro groans, ready to abandon the conversation before it could even begin.

“Ann. No, you’re wrong. I mean you’re not _wrong_ but--okay. Just listen. It's about something important,” Akira scrambles to regain control of the discussion.

Suddenly Ann’s face is stone cold and serious, understanding washing over her. She looks over and makes eye contact with Makoto, her face equally cold and expressionless. “Oh. Right, they don’t all know”.

“Sorry, but we don’t all know what, exactly?” Rise probes.

Goro stares into the fire, unable to make eye contact with anyone. Luckily, Akira continues on his behalf. “Let me tell you all exactly what role Goro’s wildcard abilities played in the Phantom Thieves,” he pauses, adding “and then Goro can explain the rest.”

Akira spends about 15 minutes recounting the six year old story. Former Phantom Thieves spend this time staring listlessly into the dancing flames, while the other persona users sit and listen attentively. Occasionally, Goro can feel uncertain eyes watching him as some of his darkest moments are laid out for all to hear. Thankfully, Akira was right when he promised Goro that the persona users would hear him out and not become hostile. He completes the story by summing up Goro’s return to Tokyo and his recent visits to the Velvet Room. As Akira finishes telling his version of events, he grabs Goro’s hand and gives it an encouraging squeeze as everyone sits in profound silence.

Aigis is the first to break the ice. “If you are still being called to the Velvet Room, then there must still be something you need to find or complete” she says, looking directly at Goro.

Goro clears his throat before finally speaking up. “Yes, actually, that is partially why we are disclosing all of this to you. You’ve all been very welcoming and friendly to me since we’ve met. So i wanted to be transparent with you all, and I’m also hoping for some advice.”

At that, attention turns to Goro as he begins to recount the previous night’s Velvet Room visit for the second time that day. The group is no longer staring at him critically, rather their gazes are thoughtful as they consider Lavenza’s instructions to Goro. He completes his explanation and takes a deep breath in and out.

“So I suppose my first question for you all is, who is the Fool and how shall I retrieve their key?” Goro asks the serious glowing faces of his friends around the crackling fire.

Souji is the first to speak up. “Well for most of us wildcards, _we_ have been the Fool. Like we’re on the Fool’s journey or something. So wouldn’t that make you the Fool?”

Goro brings his hand to his chin, considering the theory. “That may well be the case.”

“Especially because Lavenza keeps telling you that you are imprisoned by your own sense of self, so maybe you need your own key” Akihiko adds.

“Good point, though how would I retrieve a key from myself? I’ll need to think more on that...I don’t readily have a solution for that scenario” Goro admits. “As for my next line of inquiry, who are the other arcana representations?”

“All of us are. At least, that’s how it was for me,” Akira says. “For example, you were my Justice arcana and Morgana was my Magician arcana.”

Goro shakes with laughter. “Justice? Me? I suppose that is fitting in some ways”.

“More like Justice Reversed,” Makoto jabs. Ann elbows her to shut her up, but Ann’s barely hidden smile betrays her amusement with the comment.

“I’ll give you that one,” Goro laughs. “But anyway, how did you know who represented each arcana?” he continues, looking to both Souji and Akira.

Akira shrugs, “I just kind of...knew,” he says, eliciting a nod of agreement from the other man.

“How frustrating...I cannot make heads nor tails of who could be which arcana in my case,” Goro admints, furrowing his brow.

“Maybe I could offer some assistance?” Aigis chimes in. Several people look at her curiously. “I too struggled with relationships and understanding human interaction prior to meeting Minako and my other friends. Minako taught me how to feel--almost too much so--and now I can analyze and understand human communication and intention. Maybe my outside approach could help you?”

Goro nods at her, encouraging her to continue.

“Think about the new bonds you have made. What seems to be the core bonding factor between you and the other person? What is important to you in your relationship with each person? What lesson do you stand to learn? What key personality traits does the individual hold? Maybe considering these questions will help you understand. Or maybe, you can only learn as you explore your dreamlike world in the Velvet Room.”

Everyone lets that sink in for a moment. “Well said, Aigis,” Mitsuru says with a pleasant smile.

The silence continues after Mitsuru’s compliment as everyone allows Goro a moment to consider the advice. The sound of the ocean and the burning logs become white noise as he focuses his thoughts. Try as he might, no clear arcanas were coming to his mind no matter who he considered.

“I’m not getting anything…” he admits, “but I am wondering if maybe I need only truly consider my relationships with others in order for their keys to manifest in the Velvet Room.”

“Oooh, so clever, Akechi!” Rise cheers.

“May I use you as an example, Mitsuru?” Goro asks.

“Certainly.”

“My impression of you so far is that you are a strong-willed yet fair leader. In our friendship or teamwork, I suppose I could learn how to delegate responsibility to those who look up to me--not that anyone looks up to me right now--while also remaining hospitable and kind. Is that a fair assessment?

“You’ve hit the nail on the head, Akechi,” Akihiko says, beaming.

“And yet, I still cannot assign an arcana to you,” Goro complains, trying to hide his disdain.

“How about you try to find Mitsuru’s key tonight in your dreams, Goro? You know, like a test run. If you find it, then you’re on the right track! If not, we can brainstorm some more together!” Suggests Ann.

“That’s a wonderful idea Ann, thank you. Thank all of you, actually. This has been exceptionally helpful and clarifying. I really appreciate your trust and guidance.”

The group smiles at him. “And thank you too, Akechi, for being honest with us and letting us see your true self,” Kanji replies, giving him a friendly smile from across the bonfire.

Conversation slowly slips back into less serious topics, but before long everyone is growing tired from the long day in the sun and the intense conversations. Before long, the crowd makes itself back towards their bedrooms to rest for the evening. As he crawls into bed besides Akira, Goro feels safe and confident and self-assured--a combination of feelings that have so far been unfamiliar to him. He snuggles up to the other man and lets out a deep, cathartic sigh.

“I like your friends,” he says with a smile that goes unseen in the dark bedroom.

“They’re your friends too, Goro,” Akira reminds him, pulling him close and getting comfortable and ready for sleep.

“Yes. Yes they are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I am so damn sorry for my 6 month hiatus from this fic. I finished grad school and honestly lost interest in p5/this fic for a loooong while. But I hate leaving things unfinished so I'm back and ready to complete the story! I'm feeling invested in it again, so hopefully you will find the ending enjoyable--I won't write something lackluster just so I can call it finished. Thank you to anyone who's revisiting this fic after so many months! The comments and kudos you have left up to now have been extremely lovely and encouraging <3 This fic will likely have 2 more chapters--the final chapter is fully drafted, but my next chapter (chapter 9) needs a lot of work, so if there is anything you'd like to see happen in chapter 9, leave a comment and maybe you'll see your idea make an appearance!


End file.
